


cross my mind

by alittlestitious



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Neighbors AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:19:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlestitious/pseuds/alittlestitious
Summary: Why does she always get the annoying neighbors?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> summary might change, but for now that works

 Christen sighs in relief as she finally makes it to her place, refusing to even think about having to go back to the car for a second trip. Juggling the grocery bags filled with food between her arms, she notices that her next door neighbor’s door was propped open. It wasn’t entirely weird that people in this complex for people to keep the door open (perks in living at a city that was surprisingly safe). She quickly unlocks her door and drops all of her stuff in the entryway before making a dash to her neighbor’s open door.

 

She peeks in the townhouse, trying to see if they were home or not. Her eyes widens at the bareness of the townhouse as she realizes that her weird, stoner neighbors were moving out. There was only a couch left sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty room.

 

“Hi, Ms. Press!”

 

She looks over her shoulder and quickly moves out of the way to see her neighbors, Crosby and Jake, walking towards her, their arms raised in greeting. Christen gives them a wave back.

 

“Moving out?” Christen asks, trying to keep her voice even, even though inside she wanted to jump for joy.

 

They were...civil with each other for a lack of a better term. After the Great Explosion of 2014 (figuratively, not literally. Christen never created an explosion in her beloved townhouse. No matter what those two idiots had said), they had no choice or else they would lose their rent controlled townhouse.

 

But those first few months when Crosby and Jacob moved in were the worst. Living in a college town, Christen was used to the revolving door of neighbors. This townhouse though was always occupied as it was rent controlled so it was one of the cheaper dwellings in the area. Before Crosby and Jacob, Christen’s neighbors were two nice girls who never had parties, rarely had visitors over, and they were always polite.

 

Crosby and Jacob though were the complete opposite. They were polite, at first. Then the revolving door of co-eds came, both women and men, then the weed and Christen was okay with that. Living in California all her life means that she had her fair amount of encounter with those who love to get high. Then the parties came and then next thing she knows she was in an anything but a passive-aggressive feud with her collegiate neighbors and then someone sets a firecracker in one of the front doors and the bush that separates their entrances catches on fire. The police were called, the fire department was called and they were almost kicked out (despite the fact that Christen owns her place) and arrested.

 

“Yeah, we’re graduating and the owner of the place is moving back and she wants her place back,” Crosby replies. “We wanted to give you this.” He reaches inside the Trader Joe’s bag he was carrying and gives her a wine bottle. “As a peace offering and a thank you.”

 

Christen grabs it from his hands and turns it over. It was the Two Buck Chuck. “Oh…” she says softly, unknown how to respond to this. “Thank you. Is today your last day?”

 

Crosby and Jake nods their heads. “Yeah,” Jake answers. He holds out his hand in front of Christen. “Well, Ms. Press, it was nice being your neighbor this past year.”

 

Christen nods, giving them a tight smile and shaking his offered hand. “Good luck to the both of you!” She gives them one last wave before escaping to her place. She chucks the wine in the trash and goes about unpacking her groceries, her bad mood from work gone.

 

She grabs her phone and dials her sister’s number, putting it on speaker.

 

“Guess who just moved out?” She says in lieu of a greeting.

 

“Hello to you too,” Channing greets her. She hears shuffling on the other side of the line as her sister walks around. “From your tone, I wouldn’t say it’s Mrs. Resnick and her three dogs.”

 

“Aww… no I would never want Mrs. Resnick and the Three Musketeers to move out,” Christen replied as she thinks about her neighbor who watches her own dog when her sisters can’t and she’s out of town for work. “But Tweedledee and Tweedledum are moving out!”

 

“Should we break out that good wine that you’ve been hoarding?”  


Christen gasps, offended. “I have not been hoarding it! Besides I already finished it last week when I had to watch that godawful video for work.” She opens the door that leads to her backyard and steps out.

 

She was one of the lucky ones. One of the reasons she bought this townhouse, even though it’s smaller than she wants, farther from her work than she wants, as well as any other reasonable grocery store, and much more expensive than she was initially shelling out, was the backyard.

 

Being born and raised in PV, she knew she was lucky to have the beach as her backyard and when she moved, she knew that she wanted to keep it as her backyard. So she scoured and scoured until she finally found a place about an hour from where she works. It wasn’t ideal, but she didn’t mind. Even if her commute ends up being an hour or an hour and thirty minutes one way (traffic was a bitch most days).

 

She puts her wine on the the table next to her chair. She leans back, letting the sun rays hit her to warm her up. She sips on her wine as she waited for the sun to set. Although the townhouse she lived in still backs up at the beach, it was right at the corner of the street so she still occasionally sees hoards of college students and people going to the beach using the road.

 

She watches as a woman, riding on a longboard crash into the post, the snapback flying off her head. The woman stands up, looking around confused and embarrassed, before picking up her snapback and longboard and walking away from the scene of the accident, her head a little lower than before as if trying to hide herself.

 

“Ouch,” Christen cringes as she watches the woman walk away.

 

“What happened?” Channing asks.

 

“Someone just crashed into the post,” Christen replies.

 

“Ouch,” Channing echoes. “Well, sis, I gotta go and finish some things for work. Are you still coming up to Mom and Dad’s?”

 

Christen sighs. “I don’t know, Chan. You think they would want to see me?”

 

“Chris,” Channing says. “They would love to see you. They still love you, you know.”

 

“I don’t know,” Christen replies, skepticism drawing it out.

 

“At least think about it?”

 

Christen lets out a breath. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it.”

 

“Alright,” Channing replies. “I’ll see you in a couple?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Christen hangs up and looks down at the rest of her wine. She shrugs and downs the rest of it. Talking about her parents always made her feel some type of way and it’s rarely the good kind. She continues to lay on the beach chair and look up at the sky.

 

True to Southern California fashion, there were wisps of clouds in the sky, but nothing heavier to indicate any impending rainfall. She watched as the sky turns blue to orange to pink and sees as the sun slowly starts setting, letting the ocean water play with different colors. Once the sun was fully set, Christen sighs and gathers her stuff.

She made dinner for three, knowing Channing would be hungry after watching Fred and studying all day and, of course, she had to make some for Fred too. Just as she was finishing on making two plates, her doorbell rings.

 

She opens the door and immediately drops to her knees to let Fred smother her with love. She let Fred’s rough tongue cover her with kisses and some even getting into her mouth.

 

Channing pushes past them and goes straight to the kitchen, knowing her sister has prepared some kind of dinner for them. “Chris, I don’t need to see you making out with your girlfriend, let’s go and eat,” she calls over her shoulder.

 

Christen rolls her eyes and stands up, dusting her pants. She passes Channing and flicks her on the head before sitting next to her.

 

“How was your class?” Christen asks as she twirls the pasta on her fork.

 

“Ugh!” Channing groans as she eats.

 

“That bad?” Christen asks, worriedly.

 

“Yes!” Channing replies. “I feel like a dumbass in my class!”

 

Christen smiles, remembering her own harrowing freshman year where she ended up in academic probation. “Good! You’re supposed to feel like a dumbass! This isn’t high school, Chan. You actually have to work this time around.”

 

Channing sighs as she pushes her food around. “Yeah I know. How was work?”

 

Christen shrugs. “It was good. We’re overhauling the Alexandra office so I might have to go back again next week.”

 

“Look at you jetsetting everywhere,” Channing teases.  “I want your life, sis!”

 

“Sure, the constant traveling, the continuous jetlag, the fact that I’m never in my apartment for more than a week,” Christen mutters as she pokes at the salad, a little forcefully.

 

“Chris, are you okay? The salad don’t deserve that,” Channing asks, worriedly. “If you’re unhappy with your work. Just quit! You have a degree as a veterinarian! Just go back to-”

 

Christen grips her fork harder. “Channing, please stop.”

 

“Chris-”  


“No, I do not want to talk about this,” Christen repeats slowly, her grip on her fork not relenting.

 

Channing sighs. “Of course. I’m sorry for pushing.”

 

There was a tense silence as Christen takes a deep breath. She eats a couple of bites of the food before saying, “Are you having trouble with all of your classes?”

 

Channing releases the breath in relief that she didn’t realized she was holding. “Uh no. Just the one. I’m really enjoying this religions of the world class I’m taking. They talk about how meditation is considered a type of religious experience. I mean it is part of some other religions, but now a lot of people are just using meditation by itself. I thought that was pretty interesting.”

 

Christen nods. “Yeah that sounds right up in your alley.”

 

“Hey! What does that even mean?” Channing asks, miffed.

 

“You like all those new age hippie crap,” Christen says.

 

Channing rolls her eyes and throws a bread roll at her sister. “You’re the one who introduced me to these new age hippie crap!”

 

Christen laughs as she ducks. “True.” Christen asks her about her roommate and Channing rolls her eyes as she regales her sister with the tales of her and her roommate’s recent adventures as well as mishaps.

-

-

-

Christen was shaken awake to a pounding of a beat against the shared wall with her neighbor. She looks over to her clock and groans when she sees it’s 5 AM and her alarm was set for 5:30. She bangs on the shared wall.

 

The pounding stops.

 

Christen sighs in relief as she sinks back down to her bed, hugging her pillow closer to her chest.

 

The music turns on again, at a lower volume, but the pounding of the bass was at the same level. Christen lets out a scream of frustration, throws off her blanket and stands next to the shared wall.  She pounds on the wall as hard as she can.

 

_BANG BANG_

 

Christen looks at the wall confused and bangs on it again.

 

_BANG BANG_

 

She looks around and knocks on the wall three times. They knock back three times just as softly.

 

The thumping of the music seem to stop and Christen waits for it resume. When two minutes has passed and Christen does not hear the music begin again, she lets out the breath that she was holding before slipping underneath her covers to try and sleep for another hour.

 

She closes her eyes. At first, her brain doesn’t even register it, then the bass of the song hits her wall and Christen was raging as she throws the cover off her once again.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” She screams at the wall before banging on it again. The music just turns up louder and Christen yells as she grabs her change of clothes, realizing that she’s not going to be able to go back to sleep not with her asshole of a neighbor continuing to play their asshole music. She glares at her neighbor’s door as she walks to the beach, her yoga mat underneath her arm, hoping that her yoga routine will calm her down.

-

-

-

 

“You look like you’re about to murder someone,” Christen’s partner, Julie, whispers to her as they walked to their desks.

 

“The bros moved out,” Christen informs her.

 

“Oh yay!” Julie says, enthusiastically.  When Christen’s face remained pinch and angry, she says, confused. “Or not yay? Why aren’t we happy about this?”

 

“Apparently the owner of the townhouse moved in, but they’re a jerk!” Christen complains. “They started playing music at 5 AM.”

 

“You wake up at 5:30,” Julie points out.

 

“Yeah, but you know how I like to wake up to the sound of the waves not to the sound of Eminem!” Christen fumes as she sits on her desk. “Is it really so hard to be considerate to your neighbor?”

 

“I don’t know, firestarter, you tell me,” Julie teases as she turns to her computer.

 

“For the last time, I didn’t start that fire!”

 

“Okay, Billy Joel, but that’s not what the news said,” Julie says with a grin as Christen continues to fume.

 

“I need a way to get back at her for disturbing my sleep,” Christen says, waiting for Julie to come up with a suggestion.  “C’mon, Julie.”

 

“How about you just call security on her?” Julie suggests.

 

Christen scoffs. “Call security on her? Okay, grandma. I’ll be sure to not walk on your lawn either next time I go to your house.”

 

“Hey…” Julie warns, eyes narrowing at her friend. “You know I’m not good coming up with pranks like these.”

 

“Yeah you’re too much of a goody-two shoes for these things,” Christen says with a disappointed sigh. She shakes her head. “Why do I keep you around?”

 

“Because you love my pie and no one can else put up with your stubborn ass,” Julie replies with a broad smile.

 

Christen rolls her eyes. “Whatevs,” she says as she turns back to her computer, getting back to work. Her mind was preoccupied as her fingers peck at the keyboard, typing the reports, but not really processing it. When she looks up at the clock the last three hours of work has passed. She quickly gathers her stuff and throws it in her bag, saying a quick goodbye to Julie as she rushes to her car.

 

She goes to the nearest Best Buy, talking to the nearest sales associate, even managing to talk herself into getting an employee’s discount. _Men_ , she snorts to herself as she pushes her cart to the door, batting away the sales associate offer to put it in her car.

 

She smiles devilishly as she unpacks it later in her bedroom. She puts the subwoofers against the walls, making sure to point the subwoofer part on the wall. She tests the speakers making sure they can play the songs well. Once she was satisfied, she packs a bag and puts on the bass-heavy playlists that she usually reserves when she was angry (and some might argue that she is indeed pissed as fuck right now, putting it on repeat.

-

-

-

Tobin was tired, but she wasn’t in that exhausted phase that everybody seems to be in. In fact, she was loving life. Mostly because she was back stateside (as much as she loved France, she didn’t really love having to be that far from her family and friends) but she was tired and she needed to go to sleep. She rounds the corner to where her townhouse is. She can hear music thumping in her neighbor’s townhouse and she glances at her watch. _10:00 PM and she’s still listening to music this loud?_ Tobin wasn't one to turn down a party but it was Thursday, not quite the weekend yet.

 

She was lucky enough to have her townhouse be one of the cluster of townhouses that only had one next to her and that backs up on the beach. But it’s also unfortunate because that means her neighbor was “one huge crazy ass bitch” as her former tenants told her.

 

“Dude, she almost burnt both of the houses down,” Crosby says with that classic California drawl that made her think he’s a surfer. He’s not. He’s just high 80% of the time as she inspects her townhouse before the two coeds left. Next to him, Jake was nodding as if Tobin needed more convincing.

 

Tobin just gave them nods and as if that encouraged them they kept giving her countless stories. She spent twenty more minutes with them ‘warning her’ about Christen Press, the neighbor from hell. Frankly, Tobin really didn’t care for their assessment of her neighbor as she could see why this Press woman would want to drive away these two bozos as they were both dumb as a rock and, from the countless of times Mrs. Resnick called her complaining about them, they were the type to have a party every weekend and on the occasional Wednesday.

 

By the time she was able to usher them out of the house, she had to ride her longboard as fast as she can and she was cursing that she agreed for one of her friends to drive it to her instead of just getting it shipped out. She was so distracted that she ended up, crashing into a pole. Good thing no one saw her as she walks with her head low, cheeks red, and her snapback stuffed in her pocket. She ended up having to call Kelley at the corner, asking her to pick her up because after that embarrassing fail she didn’t want to be caught riding her longboard afraid that she was going to crash again.

 

But now she wanted to crash a different way. She just wanted to feel her soft _soft_ bed underneath her as she drifts away to dreamland. She drops her gear by her doorway, kicking it out of the way before going up to her bedroom. She was confused as to why the music seemed to get louder and she can feel the thumping of the bass when she shuts the door. She goes to their shared wall and knocks on it. Not loudly, just enough to probably get her attention. When there was no response, she feels a bit miffed and annoyed. She lowered her music last night when she knocked, why couldn’t she do the same?

 

She sighs and goes to the bathroom, telling herself that if by the time she was out of her room and that goddamn bass was still thumping, she was going to go over there and knock. She strips out of her clothes, throwing it in the general direction of the hamper, not caring if it went in or not. She showers quickly, wanting to just get it over with and go to sleep.

 

“Nooo,” she whines as she hears the bass continue to permeate the room. She goes to the wall and knocks again, loudly, not caring about being polite.

 

When the music was not turn down nor was there a response, she quickly changes into some joggers and pulls a shirt on before marching down to her neighbor’s house. She goes through the small space between the shared bush, not even bothering to go around it. She knocks as loudly as she can and waits.

 

No response.

 

She knocks again.

 

No response _again._

 

By now Tobin was fuming and she wanted to just tear the door down with a battering ram. She realizes then that her neighbor wasn’t there and she left her music on. She crouches down and picks up a rock, about to walk to the side and just throw it at a window so she can climbed in.

 

“Hello, Tobin!”

 

Tobin looks over her shoulder to see Mrs. Resnick walking her three dogs, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis and another unknown dog. Tobin plasters a fake smile on her face, even though inside she was so mad and so annoyed that she was interrupted. She can already feel her lips straining at the effort.

 

“Hi, Mrs. Resnick. What are you doing out so late?” Tobin asks, trying to soften her tone as to not scare the poor woman. She must look demented with her wet hair, want-to-murder eyes, and the rock that she picked up from the ground clutched in her hands.

 

Mrs. Resnick’s brown eyes were trained on Tobin’s hand before glancing at Tobin’s face, suspiciously. “Oh you know, Aramis needed to poop so I thought might as well take all three out. Are you looking for Ms. Press?”

 

Tobin lets the rock go. It thumps against the concrete unnaturally as if it was hollow and she glances at it quickly, she can see a small line cutting through this fake rock. She walks towards Mrs. Resnick as she replies. “Yeah, you don’t happen to know where she is?”

 

“Oh she went to go visit her sister, dear,” Mrs. Resnick says. “She’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

 

“Oh darn,” Tobin says with faux disappointment, as she snaps her fingers. “I wanted to introduce myself to her. You know be a friendly neighbor and all.”

 

Mrs. Resnick gives her a small smile. “Well you can always visit her when she gets back on Sunday night.”

 

Tobin nods, distractedly as she lets the annoyance consume her. She was gone for the whole weekend and that neverending playlist will continue to play, not giving her sweet relief. “You’re right, Mrs. Resnick.”

 

Mrs. Resnick laughs. “Always am, dear. Goodnight.” She gives Tobin wave, whistling under her breath as she goes back to walking her dogs.

 

Tobin gives her a small nod with a smile and waits for her to round the corner. When she was gone, Tobin goes back to the hollow rock. She opens it and her eyes widen in excitement when she realizes that it was indeed the key to the devil’s apartment. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, bracing herself to see some kind of lamb mounted to the wall after a sacrificial ritual or something.

 

When she opens the door, she was disappointed to see a normal looking, but very well-designed room. There was a fireplace at the wall at the west and a tv a the corner of the room with a couch and a loveseat surrounding both. There was a shelf underneath the stairs and Tobin looks at the book, realizing most of them were veterinary medicine type of books. She looks over to the kitchen quickly, just to check if anyone was there. When she was sure, no one was there, Tobin goes back to the entrance hall and goes up the stairs. She followed the loud music, leading her to the last door at the end of the hallway.

 

Tobin laughs and shakes her head in mild exasperation as she sees the setup this woman had going on. The speakers were pressed against the wall on top of two nightstands that were clearly not supposed to be on that wall. Obviously, she bought these speakers in order to drive Tobin crazy with the bass thumping against her bedroom. She quickly unplugs the speaker, her ears thanking her when the bass finally dies down.

 

She goes downstairs and goes to the kitchen, trying to think of an idea to get back at her. She quickly executes her plan and grabs the pen and paper on the counter writing her very _nice_ neighbor a letter, making sure to imply enough that it was her neighbor that did it, but not enough to implicate her in case she tries to press charges on her for breaking and entering.

 

When she was done, she locks the door, puts the key back in the fake rock, and hides the fake rock by the bush so no one else can get in. She goes to sleep with a smile in her face, picturing the angry and irritated look on her neighbor’s face as she sees what Tobin has done to her kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prank war rages on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the kudos and all the comments. They were very unexpected. And I hope this story disappoint by how excited everyone is. Hope you like this chapter!

Christen was feeling refreshed after going to her friend’s apartment to relax and also to get away from her stupid revenge prank for her inconsiderate neighbor. Now that she thinks about it. It is a bit immature on her part to get caught up in another prank war. As she opens the door to her place, she was confused as to why there was no music playing. She didn’t turn it off and Mrs. Resnick wouldn’t go to her house without telling her first. She immediately goes upstairs and sees that the speaker has been unplugged.

 

 _Has someone been in my house?_  

 

She goes through her stuff in the bedroom, noting that the obviously valuable items were still in there. She goes down to the living room and nothing seemed to be stolen or out of place.

 

“What the fuck?!” Christen cries out as she looks around her kitchen. Every cabinet, drawer, and anything that has the door (except the refrigerator) was open and it looks like they’ve rearranged everything. 

 

“What kind of sick fuck breaks into someone’s apartment and move kitchen utensils around?!” Christen says, frustratedly as she starts taking the stuff out of the cabinet. She drops the pan and goes back to the living room to get her phone when at the corner of her eye, she sees paper stuck to the refrigerator with her turtle magnet. She yanks it off the fridge, not caring that the turtle magnet drops to the floor.

 

“ _Hey neighbor,_

 

_Your music was playing too loud, so I thought you needed help turning it down. I thought your kitchen looked amazing, but I think it would even look more amazing if you rearranged it for efficiency. You’re welcome! See you around!_

 

_Your friendly neighbor,_

 

_T._

 

_P.S. Who still hides an emergency key in a fake rock?”_

 

Her lips mouth the words on the note, fury building within her. She crumples up the paper and throws it on the counter. She grabs her phone, intending to march to her neighbor’s front door and confronting her, when she had a better idea. She grabs the wad of paper, flattening it again and storing it in one of the drawers for evidence.

 

 _I’m the inconsiderate one when she didn’t turn it down when I asked her to? What kind of fuckery is this?!_ Christen seethes as she cleans up her messed up kitchen, putting things where they belonged. Her mind was running at top speeds, trying to think of a way to get back at her “friendly neighbor”.

 

She goes to her trash can and grabs the two buck chuck that her former neighbors, that are looking much much better than this new neighbor and pops it open, chugging it straight from the bottle. She grabs her laptop and starts searching up ideas, knowing that she’s going to need all the help that she can get.

 

One bottle of wine later, Christen had a good buzz going as well as few good ideas swimming in her head. She saves a particular web page to come back to it at a later time. She glances at the analog clock on her fireplace, the big face and hands telling her that she wasted the afternoon away, scheming against her neighbor. She grabs her phone and sees that she has a missed call from Mrs. Resnick asking her to pick up Fred.

 

She grabs her keys and her coat, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She locks the door, her eyes wandering to the closed door of her neighbor’s. She glances over at the shared carport in front of their house and she sees that her neighbor’s car is in its port, memorizing the plate number as well as the make and model of the car.

 

When she gets Fred from Mrs. Resnick, she ended up having a small cup of coffee with the woman. Knowing Mrs. Resnick’s family rarely came to visit the sweet woman, Christen didn’t have a problem, staying for a bit, drinking tea. They ended up talking about Mr. Resnick ( _God rest his soul)_.

 

“Do you miss him?” Christen asks as she munches on a cookie that Mrs. Resnick leaves out.

 

“Oh, of course, dear,” Mrs. Resnick replies as if there was no other answer to that question. She sighs. “You never really get over the one you love you know. When they die…” she looks down at her ring, playing with it.

 

For a second, amid all the wrinkled skin and sunspots, Christen can see a young beautiful Mrs. Resnick.

 

“It’s like a part of you dies, but a part of you is reborn because you get to keep on living without them. You get to keep on learning. You know those things you learn when you first move out of your parent’s house?” She pauses looking at Christen and at Christen’s nod, she continues. “It’s like that. There’s a learning curve because you start off alone then you meet your world, then in a blink of an eye that life is gone.” Her voice cracks and she dabs at her eyes, laughing to herself. “Oh, I’m sorry that our talk has gone so morbid, dear.”

 

Christen smiles as she pats Mrs. Resnick on the arm. “It’s fine, Mrs. Resnick. These words of wisdom are gold.”

 

Mrs. Resnick laughs to herself, a little self-deprecating, and sighs again. “Oh if you can just tell my children that. And enough about me. What about you dear? How has your weekend been?”

 

“Oh it was good,” Christen says. “I actually stayed with a friend I haven’t seen in awhile.”

 

“Oh I thought you went to go see your sister,” Mrs. Resnick says. “That’s actually what I told Tobin.”

 

“Tobin?” Christen asks, unsure if that was a name or not.

 

“Oh she’s your neighbor,” Mrs. Resnick says.

 

“Tobin,” Christen rolls her name in her tongue, testing it out, feeling the instant anger and rage that she had when she read the stupid note her stupid neighbor have written. _What kind of a name is Tobin?!_

 

“I’m guessing she hasn’t come by and introduced herself?”

 

Christen shakes her head, her lips pursed into a tight a line. “No, I guess she’s been busy.”

 

Mrs. Resnick smiles and nods, looking like a proud mother. “I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s a bit of a local celebrity you know.”

 

“Really?” Christen asks. “How?”

 

“She plays soccer, quite well I might add,” Mrs. Resnick says. “She was part of the team that won the World Cup and Olympics.”

 

“Oh!” Christen says, truly surprised. Although she loves the sport, Christen rarely has time to follow it closely like she did before, just after everything has happened.  Christen hated that this was one of the casualties.

 

“Yes, it’s quite amazing we have an Olympian right in our neighborhood,” Mrs. Resnick says. She stands up gathering their cups and plates. As she walks to the kitchen, she spots the clock. “Oh, I didn’t know how late it is, Christen. You should probably head home since you have work.”

 

Christen glances at the clock as well surprised at how fast time passed. She whistles for Fred and says goodbye to Mrs. Resnick, giving her a bear hug. The elderly, sometimes senile woman, has become a surrogate mother (and grandmother to Fred) to her these past years. She was there when Christen was at her lowest and although Christen hasn’t felt the high of being at the highest, she’s so thankful and grateful that she had Mrs. Resnick.

 

As she walks to her townhouse, she sees a guy moving in his stuff, his car in the handicap spot that Mrs. Resnick usually uses, but her car has been at the mechanics recently, leaving the spot open. Christen notes that he neither has a tag nor a parking placard.

 

“Hey, buddy, that’s for disabled only,” Christen calls to him, Fred sitting down next to her.

 

“Oh! My house is right there!” The guy says smiling, a supposedly charming smile that had Christen feeling infuriated. He shrugs. “You know, easier for moving in and stuff.”

 

She was still unsure of him. She’s sure that he’s going to do it again, but she nods anyway. She gives him a smile. “Well, I’m just checking,” Christen says as she tugs on Fred’s leash.

 

The guy leans against his car, giving her that constipated look again. “Hey, so I’m new to town,” he starts as he steps forward.

 

Christen inwardly cringes, knowing where this was going. Fred growls lowly at the unwanted man, but not baring her teeth yet. He ignores this and steps forward again. Fred growls again this time with more volume and Christen tightens her hold on her leash.

 

He glances down at the dog, and as if dismissing him as nothing but a cute dog, takes another step forward towards Christen, that smarmy, straight-boy grin still on his face.

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Christen warns him. “She’s trained to kill.”

 

As if that was a joke, he laughs and crouches in front of Fred. “This little guy?” he coos as he goes to pet Fred.

 

Fred growls and snaps her teeth at him, pulling Christen with him. He flinches, falling on his butt, his eyes wide in surprise as he stares up at Christen.

 

“I warned you,” Christen says. She clicks her tongue as she tugs at Fred’s leash. “C’mon, Fred.”

 

Christen doesn’t glance back as she walks Fred back to her townhouse, not really caring whether or not the dude was okay. She looks over at the port again to see her neighbor’s car wasn’t there anymore. She curses at the missed opportunity as she enters her townhouse. She unlatches Fred’s leash, balling it up and putting it in the dresser by the door. Fred immediately runs around the house, nose to the ground as she gets acquainted with the new smell of her neighbor. Instead of reacting badly to the smell though, Fred looked noticeably happier as she seems to try to find the new source of the smell. Finding nothing, Fred whines and grabs her toy before heading to her bed and biting it, making it squeak.

 

Christen groans, the squeaking already driving her insane. It was unusually loud. All squeaky toys are loud, but with Christen’s aversion to deafening noises, she makes sure that all of Fred’s toys that squeak aren’t too ear-splitting. She walks over to Fred, crouching in front of her.

 

“Hey, buddy, can I just-” She quickly grabs the spherical object from Fred’s mouth. Her eyes widen at the familiar hexagons stitched together into a ball. She turns the ball over and sees a smiley face and a signature. She can make out a _T_ and a _17_ from the autograph and she throws the ball in frustration at how her new neighbor seems to be getting under her skin so quickly.

 

Fred takes off after the ball, following it into the kitchen. Christen can hear Fred grab it, squeaking it as she runs back to the living room, completely bypassing Christen and going to her bed, her paws wrapped around it protectively.

 

“Traitor,” Christen mutters as she glares at her dog. Fred looks up at her, her big brown eyes gazing into her sweetly before squeaking the toy again.

-

-

-

Tobin was worried. It’s been two weeks after she retaliated against her neighbor. She has to admit that going inside her house and messing with her stuff was crossing over the line. But she was just a little bit worried. Because unlike her neighbor, she doesn’t leave her keys in a fake rock. Although on more than one occasion, she has forgotten her keys in the actual lock. Now that she was in a prank war (not confirmed yet, but she’s pretty sure she’s in one), she’s much more vigilant in making sure she doesn’t forget it. She’s still worried, though, just a little bit. It’s been two weeks and still nothing.

 

“Hi, Tobin!”

 

Tobin stops trying to put her keys in the lock and she looks over to see Mal and Rose looking at her, a ball underneath Rose’s arm. The two ten-year-olds were staring up at her with a grin as Rose hold out her ball.

 

“Let’s play at the beach!” Rose says.

 

“I don’t know guys,” Tobin says.

 

“Please, Tobin? I’ve been working on a trick I wanted to show you!” Mal says as she rocks on her toes.

 

“Me too!” Rose says, not to be outdone by her friend.

 

“Okay,” Tobin concedes, grabbing the ball from Rose’s hands as they headed towards the beach. Tobin drops her gym bag at the sand as they start playing

 

To Tobin, there was nothing better than playing fùtbol on the beach with the sun setting behind her. Especially when she’s playing as if it was not her job but purely for fun. They pass the ball around, the two girls keeping Tobin on her toes as they one-up each other. As usual, Mal and Rose kept Tobin laughing at their antics. When Mal, out of frustration, kicks the ball towards the water, Tobin calls it a day, sending them on their way home.

 

“I’m really happy that you’re back, Tobin,” Mal says as she looks up at her.

 

“Yeah, we missed you,” Rose said with a toothy smile.

 

Tobin smiles as she ruffles their hair, making the two girls howl with indignation as they swat at her hands. “I missed you guys too.”

 

“Bye, Tobin!” They call to her as they run in the direction of their houses, waving at her. Tobin watches them for a moment, making sure each of them actually make it to their respective houses before she turns back in the other direction towards her own house.

 

As she walks to the door, she pats her bag for her house keys. She panics for a moment until she realizes that she must’ve left in her house this morning. She grabs her wallet and opens it up, gripping the emergency key. She opens the door and drops her bag at the entrance, kicking it to the side before she goes upstairs to take a shower.

 

She strips down as she walks to her shower, not even caring where her clothes land as she takes them off. She turns on the shower as she waits underneath the head. Her nose wrinkles at the smell before the water hits her body. She jumps out of the shower, realizing to her horror, that the water that the showerhead was spewing out reminded her of chicken noodle soup. She grabs her towel, wrapping herself up quickly as she goes to grab her phone to call a plumber.

 

Something made her stop as she was dialing the number she just looked up. She goes back to the bathroom, her phone still clutched in her hand. She goes to turn off the water, by then the bathroom was hazy, filled with hot steam. Her eyes go to the mirror to see a message that was revealed when the steam took over the room.

 

_HAHAHA NICE TRY, BUDDY -C_

 

Tobin groans as she realizes the whole can of worms she just opened. She ends up calling the plumber anyway and spending an absurd amount of money. When the plumber tells her that someone put chicken bouillon in her shower head, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing at how cunning her neighbor was.

 

 _Oh, it’s on,_ Tobin thought as she holds the crumbling bouillon in her palm.

-

-

-

“Hey, KO, I need advice,” Tobin says as she puts her board down and sits next to it.

 

“Do you need girl advice, Tobin?” Kelley asks as she puts her sunglasses on her eyes, laying down on her towel.

 

Tobin scoffs. “Please, that’s the last thing I need from you. But it’s kinda girl advice.”

 

Kelley gestures for her to go on.

 

“Okay, so my neighbor is being a pain in the ass and I need to get back at her,” Tobin says.

 

Kelley looks thoughtful, her fingers stroking an imaginary (or-not-so imaginary) beard. “You come to me-”

 

“Oh god please don’t start with the Godfather bit,” Tobin groans as she throws herself on the sand, ignoring the way the sand flew up as she flopped.

 

“You come to me!” Kelley says louder, ignoring Tobin’s complaint.  “In your time of need-”

 

“Kelley!”

 

“Fine,” Kelley pouts. “What about this neighbor from hell?”

 

“So, I don’t know how we ended up in a prank war,” Tobin starts. “But I came home after practice and she was just blasting music. I broke into her house-”

 

“You did what, you creep?!”

 

“Hey!” Tobin says, offended. “Okay, I mean is it really breaking into her house when she keeps the lock in a fake rock?”

 

“Uh, yeah, dude I’m pretty sure that’s still breaking in,” Kelley says as if it was obvious.

 

“Anyway,” Tobin says, switching the subject. “I go into her house and I see she has this weird setup where she had nightstands against the wall with speakers on them and she was playing the heaviest bass songs I have ever heard. I’m talking wall-shakin, floor-thumpin’-”

 

“Stop saying sex words,” Kelley says. “And get on with it.”

 

“So she has this set-up that’s there to transmit as much annoying songs as possible,” Tobin says. “So I go and knock on her door and she wasn’t there. So I was trying to find like a way to get in there when I saw the stupid fake rock. Like what possible adult keeps their spare key in an obviously fake rock?”

 

“I don’t know the same adult who puts it on top of her doorway?”

 

Tobin glares at Kelley. “Okay, first of all, I stopped doing that when my house got broken into and second of all, point.”

“Alright, so you go into her house and what did you do?”

 

“Well, I was just going to turn off the music because I thought she forgot it or like it was her alarm or something,” Tobin says. “Then I saw the set-up so I decided to get back at her and I just basically rearranged her whole kitchen.”

 

“Wow, Tobin, what a great prank,” Kelley says sarcastically.

 

“Hey, it was great, okay? Because you can just tell she is one of those people that get bothered by that,” Tobin defends. “So I rearrange her kitchen and she puts chicken bouillon in my shower.”

 

“Wait you let her in your house?”

 

“No and I don’t know how she got in,” Tobin says. “And no, I did not put my key on the doorway again.”

 

Kelley closes her mouth. “Wasn’t even going to say that,” Kelley mutters, even though she totally was. “Huh,” she says to herself. That prank sounds oddly familiar.

 

“So now, I need to get back at her for doing it,” Tobin says. “So my evil friend, do you have any suggestions?”

 

Kelley gives her a wicked grin. “I have the perfect prank that you should do.”


	3. three

Christen was about to pull into her parking space when she notices a lanky, slim figure with headphones on her head, against her neighbor’s door, presumably unlocking it so she could go in. Instead of pulling in, Christen carefully watches her, not wanting to reveal herself to her, mostly out of embarrassment than anything.

 

Then she remembers, what has she got to be embarrassed about? Her neighbor, Tobin, was the one that started this whole thing.

 

She parks at another parking space, far enough that Tobin can’t see her, but near enough that Christen can see what was going on. Shaking off the feeling of being creepy, she waits until Rose and Mal, her two favorite kids in the neighborhood go up to Tobin and talk to her, a soccer ball tucked under Rose’s arm.  They exchange some words before running to the beach, leaving her stuff just sitting on her porch.

 

Christen takes this as her chance as she quickly parks in her usual space and grabs the groceries in her trunk. Since she already did her big grocery shopping earlier in the month, this was just mostly the things she forgot. As she walks to her townhouse, something glints, hitting her eye. She stops and her eyes widen to see that Tobin has forgotten her keys in the lock itself.

 

Christen glances over her shoulder to see Tobin, Rose, and Mal all engrossed in their small game. She looks through her bag of groceries grabbing the chicken bouillon that she was going to use later this week. She quickly turns the key, pushing the door open.

 

Christen takes a quick look around the bottom floor as they have the same floorplan, just mirrored, her stairs was on the left instead of on the right. The kitchen was still straight across from the entrance. It was clean enough if you don’t include the weird collection of furniture.

 

As her neighbor has just moved in a month or so ago, Christen assumes she hasn’t had the time to actually shop for furniture. Instead of a couch, there was a wooden bench that was clearly meant for her porch. There was nothing on the shelves and there were still boxes next to the stairs. Christen goes up the stairs, carefully stepping over some thrown clothes on the steps.

 

She goes to the master bedroom, actually happy to see that her neighbor has an actual bed and not just a mattress on the floor. She goes to the bathroom, cringing at the wet towel on the flower. She goes to the shower head and unscrews it before sticking the chicken bouillon inside the head, and screwing it back on. Before she leaves though, she grabs the bar of soap and writes on her mirror. She runs down the stairs not wanting to get caught. She debates on whether or not to keep the key or to just stick it back in the lock.

 

She pockets the key and closes the front door before bolting to her own apartment. She was catching her breath, her chest heaving despite that it was literally only two steps away. She shakes off the adrenaline and sits at the counter to watch the three continue to play with the ball.

 

Through her movements, Christen can see why Tobin is an Olympian. It’s like the ball was magnetically attached to her feet, able to call it back to her with just a flick of her foot. Watching the three of them reminds Christen of how much she used to love the sport. Even if she didn’t end up playing for the national team, she still loved the feeling of shared joy when she won with Stanford or the shared misery when they lost. She shakes her head, trying to stop herself from going into a funk before she goes to the window and closes it.

 

-

-

-

 

“So how’s the neighbor?” Julie asks as she sits on her desk, having to come in an hour later due to unforeseen circumstances that she refuses to elaborate on due to the gossip mongers in their office.

 

“Oh she’s good,” Christen says. “I haven’t heard from her since I put chicken bouillon in her shower. It’s been like three weeks. I’m a little bit scared.”

 

Julie cackles. “I swear to God, Press, I don’t know where you get these things.”

 

Christen shrugs. “I just have that good of a mind, you know?”

 

Julie gives her an unimpressed stare. “You mean you found a website.”

 

Christen pouts, throwing a wad of paper at her friend. “Yeah, yeah. The website helped immensely and an old friend of mine did it to these annoying guys that were in our suite. But let me think I’m an evil genius for once.”

 

“Oh, Press, don’t ever doubt that,” Julie says, teasingly. “You’re an evil genius through and through.”

 

Christen gives her a mega-watt smile. “Thank you, Julie.” They wordlessly turn back to their computers, answering emails and coordinating schedules such as the life of an assistant to the VP of the company.

 

“What an ass,” Christen mutters as she reads through the email of her boss, detailing how she went wrong with how she handled the opening of the new office even though she did everything she was asked to do.

 

“At least she’s not coming in today,” Julie says sympathetically, having read the e-mail thread that she was CC’ed on.

 

“At least,” Christen agrees as she closes the e-mail and continues going through her inbox.

 

“Hey,” Julie says, softly, catching Christen’s attention. “I have to tell you something.”

 

“What’s up?” Christen asks, rolling her chair back so she can look across to Julie.

 

Julie sighs. “I’m handing in my two months notice.”

 

“What? You’re leaving me?” Christen asks, distraught. “Jules, you can’t leave me.”

 

“Chris, this wasn’t meant to be forever,” Julie says with a small smile.

 

“Are you breaking up with me too?” Christen asks. “Great not only do I lose you as my coworker, I lose you too as my best friend?”

 

Julie rolls her eyes. “Stop being overdramatic, Press. If it didn’t raise any suspicions, I would’ve flicked your ear.”

 

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Christen taunts.

 

“Press,” Julie says, exasperated. “I’m not breaking up with you. We can still be friends. You’re literally my only friend right now thanks to this goddamn job.”

 

“Okay that’s good,” Christen replies.

 

“Yeah, I mean you gotta be there when I open my coffee shop,” Julie says.

 

“I do have to support you,” Christen says, nodding.

 

“Yeah, your caffeine addiction alone will keep my shop afloat,” Julie jokes.

 

“Well, I’m glad I could be of service,” Christen says.

 

She can still feel her throat tightening and her chest hurting at the mention of Julie leaving, despite the fact that they’ll still be able to see each other. They’ve had so many memories working for this asshole that no one can understand how hard the late nights were or how annoying the screaming of their boss was. Sure the newbie would help with the workload, but who would she trade knowing looks to when her boss goes on a weird tangent or when she feels like killing herself over the assigned workload.  As usual, Christen filed this feeling in her mind to deal with later, choosing to focus on her work instead to avoid being yelled at by her draconian boss.

 

By the end of the day, she was exhausted at having to keep up the cheery demeanor. Despite the fact that she just wanted to go home and curl up with Fred. Or, maybe, go on the beach and let the sand and waves calm her. She trudges to her door, glaring at her neighbor’s door, resisting the urge to kick it.

 

She was being a little prissy and she knows it.

 

She lets out a quiet little triumphant yell when after two minutes she was finally able to open her door.  She drops down to her knees as Fred greets her, almost knocking her on her ass. She rubs Fred, making sure she gets all her good spots before heading towards the kitchen to give her food and water. She watches Fred eat her food for a minute before she goes outside to sit and let the salty air put her at ease. She hears the door open before Fred sits in front of her and puts her head on her shoulder.

 

“What’s eating you, huh, Fred?” Christen murmurs as she runs her fingers through her fur. “You wanna go for a walk?”

 

Fred’s ears perk and she tilts her head to look up at Christen, eyes shining bright with excitement. Christen smiles and stands up, following her dog inside the house. Fred grabs her leash and her harness with her mouth and thrusts it into her hands before showing her back to Christen. Christen carefully helps Fred into her harness, making sure that it wasn’t too tight. She wasn’t too worried about Fred accidentally getting loose as the dog was trained pretty well.

 

She locks her door, checking twice to make sure that it’s actually locked and that her neighbor can’t get in. She tugs on Fred’s leash before she let the golden retriever lead her.  She glares at her neighbor’s car parked at Mrs. Resnick’s (okay, the disability spot is not reserved for anyone, but it annoys her to no end that this person who has no disability placard or sticker is just taking advantage of this). She thinks of calling the police, but know that the douchebag was just going to talk his way out of it. When they come around again, she allows Fred to pee on his car.

 

As she was walking to her apartment she sees her neighbor, leading a woman to her front door. They kiss each other, practically sucking each other’s faces and Christen can’t help but wanna yell out get a room. After a hardcore makeout session against the front door, they disappear inside her house. Christen was glad she didn’t have to awkwardly walk up their shared path. She unclips the harness from Fred’s body and stashes it in the basket that Fred can easily reach.

 

She checks all the windows and doors making sure they’re locked. She hates that this stupid prank war is causing her to feel paranoid that her neighbor was some kind of serial ax murderer or something. She goes upstairs and throws herself on her bed, feeling relieved when she finally hit her bed. She wiggles underneath her covers not, letting her body relax into her bed.

 

She drifts off to sleep only to be awakened by a loud moan ripping through their shared thin wall as well as a loud slap against. It. She glances at the clock to see it was only 2 AM.

 

“Not again,” Christen moans. She turns on the light and rifles through her nightstand table, pulling out a pair of headphones. She connects it to her phone before blasting an instrumental playlist that she can fall asleep to. Even with her headphones, you can still hear some kind of slap (is what Christen thinks) against the wall) so she grabs her pillow and blanket and trudges to the living room. She still grabs her headphones though just in case the two decide to go downstairs or something.

-

-

-

Tobin wakes up due to the suffocating heat around her back and the heavy breathing against her ear. She quickly looks over her shoulder to see a woman draped over her back, peacefully sleeping. It kind of unnerved Tobin that she was the little spoon in this situation.

 

She slowly wiggles her away from underneath the woman’s arm, trying not to wake her up. She quickly gets dressed, grabs her longboard and backpack. She props up her longboard against the counter as she puts thirty dollars on the counter as well as order an Uber for the woman (that she really could not remember the name of). She tiptoes out of her own house, being as quiet as she can as to not wake up her nighttime companion.

 

As she was locking the door, she hears her neighbor shut her own backyard door and she steps away from her door for a moment to see if she can see and identify her. But all she saw was her back walking towards the ocean, a yoga mat underneath her arm. Tobin squints, her head tilting as she looked at her neighbor’s ass, purely appreciating its form. She hears her a door faintly slam in her house and she takes off on a run before riding away, hoping that when she comes back they’ll be gone.

 

She ends up going to a small restaurant about a mile away to eat some breakfast, killing time there before she deems that the woman should’ve left by now. But just to make sure, Tobin goes to the beach to just lay around in, wasting more time.

-

-

-

“Hi,” Christen says as she watches a woman come out of Tobin’s apartment looking around confused.

 

The woman turns to her and blushes a deep red. “Hi,” she mutters before she closes the door and makes a run for it.

 

Christen raises an eyebrow at the woman. She shrugs, she’s not there to judge. She whistles for Fred, who dutifully follows after her. Fred might be Christen’s best friend, but he was not the best running partner that she has. Fred runs maybe one mile and refuses to move the next mile or so.

 

Like predicted, Fred collapses on the sand, refusing to move, whining as she rolls her back exposing her belly.

 

“C’mon, you, big baby,” Christen says, tugging on her leash. “Fred…”

 

Fred whines and continues to lay on the sand. Christen sighs and drops down next to her dog. “Are you done, already, Fred?”

 

Fred seemingly getting her second wind, stands up, and starts running away from Christen. Christen jumps up after her dog, calling her back. Her dog stops in front of a stranger who was just sitting there, feet buried in the sand, her round sunglasses covering her face.

 

Tobin feels wet, slobbery kisses on her face as she lays on the sand, with her eyes closed. She shoots up and looks in front of her to see a startlingly familiar Golden Retriever. She looks at the collar, the familiar purple bone catching her eye.

 

“Hey, Fred!” Tobin greets at the dog, giving her ample pets and rubs. “Who’s a good boy?”

 

“Girl,” The woman corrects. She bends down in front of Tobin to grab Fred’s leash.

 

Tobin’s eyes drift to the woman’s ass her eyes widening as she realizes this was her neighbor. She examines their face and was horrified to see that she was actually gorgeous. Her neighbor doesn’t seem to be glaring at her in disgust so she doesn’t know that it’s her heinous neighbor.

 

“But her name is Fred?” Tobin asks.

 

“Winifred,” She corrects again.

 

“Like Winifred Burkle?”

 

She nods. “Exactly like that.”

 

Tobin opens her mouth to respond, but her phone starts ringing and she gives her neighbor an apologetic smile. The woman just shrugs at her and waves, indicating she was going to go. Tobin watches her go, eyes drifting to her butt again. She nods. _Yeah, that’s definitely her._

-

-

-

When it got too warm, Tobin packs up her stuff in her backpack and starts walking to her house. She decides to take the long way around the small neighborhood just in case the three hours wasn’t enough of a hint to the woman that she didn’t want the awkward aftermath of a hookup.

 

She rounds the corner to Mrs. Resnick’s block and her eyes narrow at a car that was definitely not Mrs. Resnick’s, parked in the handicapped spot. She looks around and sees that the guy had no right to be there as he had no parking sticker nor a handicap placard. She rifles through her bag and finds an old receipt as well as a pen that she probably swiped from a bank. She writes a quick note telling the owner to be courteous and not to park in the space again or else she’s calling the police. She leaves the note on the windshield to make sure the dude can see it before she gets ready for practice.

-

-

-

Tobin quickly glances over at her neighbor’s door, not really paying attention as she just wanted to get inside her house. She stops short when she realizes that her neighbor left her door open for some reason. Really the neighborly thing to do is to close it and leave a note explaining what happened.

 

But she wasn’t neighborly and she’ll be damned if she lost now. She hurries upstairs to grab the powder that Kelley lent her. She glances over her shoulder to make sure her neighbor wasn’t coming and goes inside her house, closing the door behind her.

 

Tobin runs to her neighbor’s room, her heart pounding feeling she was a spy on a mission. If she gets caught, the enemy might kill her. She looks for her neighbor’s chest of drawers, specifically her underwear drawer. Once she finds it, she sprinkles a good amount of the powder on the clothes. She barrel rolls out of the room before she goes to her house, remembering to close the door.

 

Tobin flops on the couch, turning on the tv and trying to relax. She mindlessly flips through the channels trying to find something to occupy her wandering mind with. Her mind already kept trying to picture her neighbor’s reaction when the powder starts kicking in.

 

Her phone chirps and she grabs her phone from underneath her body. She unlocks it and to her disappointment, it was just her alarm ringing. She tries to remember as to why she set an alarm at such an odd time when it dawns on her. She promised Mrs. Resnick she was going to come by and try her new tart recipe. Tobin pushes herself off the couch and grabs her snapback, pushing it on her head. She locks the door, checking it twice to make sure it was locked and secure.

 

As she gets closer to Mrs. Resnick’s house, she can hear louder than usual noises emanating from the inside. Even with three dogs, Mrs. Resnick’s house is usually quieter than even her own. She takes off at a run, worried that an intruder has broken into her house and doing unspeakable things to her elderly neighbor. When she gets to the front door, her worry spikes even more when she sees that the door was open. She psychs herself up, swinging her arms, and jogging in place just in case she needed to throw hands, her back be damned.

 

She goes inside the house, trying to find the three musketeers first when she couldn’t spot them anywhere on the first floor, she follows the noises up the stairs. She passes the door to the spare bedroom and goes inside the master bedroom situated at the end of the hallway.

 

Instead of an intruder, she finds her hot neighbor, Christen, tending to Mrs. Resnick as she sits on the floor. Christen fusses over Mrs. Resnick while four dogs stare at the duo worriedly, whines coming from the back of their throats. Mrs. Resnick spots Tobin first. She gives her a wide smile. “Hello, Tobin.”

 

Her neighbor glances up sharply as if startled and Tobin watches as her gaze slowly goes up to from her legs, stopping at certain parts of her, until their eyes meet. Tobin smirks at her as if teasing her at being caught checking her out. Christen just raises and eyebrow at her, no embarrassment and shame in her eyes.

 

“Are you guys done trying to undress each other with your eyes?” Mrs. Resnick asked from her spot, amusement flitting in her voice.

 

“Mrs. Resnick! We are not-”

 

“Save your explanations, my dear, I know sexual tension when I see one,” Mrs. Resnick teases.

 

Tobin rolls her eyes at Mrs. Resnick before she crouches beside them, trying to see if she was injured or have an open wound. “Stop with your teasing, Martha,” Tobin says. “What happened?”

 

“She was being stubborn and instead of calling me to help,” Christen starts.

 

“Oh please Christen,” Mrs. Resnick tuts. “I was just trying to grab a box at the top of my closet.”

 

“You used a chair with wheels to use as leverage!” Christen says pointing at her desk chair, glaring at the damn thing.

 

Mrs. Resnick shrugs. “I thought I could balance on it.”

 

“I was trying to help her to get up so I can take her to the hospital,” Christen explains to Tobin. “But I’m having trouble.”

 

“Say no more,” Tobin says as she puts her arms underneath Mrs. Resnick’s legs and around her back. She carefully lifts Mrs. Resnick into her arms with Christen’s assist.

 

They load her into Christen’s car, making sure not to jostle her in case she had any broken bones or something unseen. Christen goes back inside the house to corral the four dogs making sure that they had enough water and food between the four of them before sliding into the driver’s seat. She starts the car and glances over her shoulder to look at Mrs. Resnick.

 

“You okay, Mrs. Resnick?” Christen asks her.

 

“I’m okay, dear,” Mrs. Resnick answers.

 

As they were passing Mrs. Resnick’s townhouse, Christen couldn’t help but glower at the car parked in the handicap space that’s been the source of her annoyance every time she visits Mrs. Resnick. “Jackass,” she mutters quietly underneath her breath as they pass by.

 

At least she thought it was quietly until Tobin next to her says, “I know, right? Is it really that inconvenient to park one spot over?” Christen gives her a surprised look as if not realizing she can hear her. “I left him a note threatening him with the cops, but he still parked there!”

 

Christen laughs, bordering on a cackle that scares Tobin a bit. Tobin quickly checks the locks on the doors to make sure she can open them. “I make my dog pee on his tires.”

 

Tobin nods her head in approval. “Nice.”

 

Mrs. Resnick’s clicks her tongue in the background. “That’s not very nice, dears. You shouldn’t threaten people or destroy their property.”

 

“He shouldn’t park in a handicap space!” Christen says, angrily, throwing her hands up in the air before she remembers she was driving.

 

Tobin grabs onto the  _oh shit_ bar. “Dude, please watch the road!”

 

“Sorry,” Christen says. “That asshole really grinds my gears.” She pulls up into the hospital parking lot, parking at a handicap space.

 

“Are you sure you wanna park here?”

 

“What?” Christen asks, jabbing a thumb towards the back. “We have a handicap in the car. Besides, you’re going to go in there and grab a wheelchair.”

 

“Why me? Shouldn’t you go up there since I’m the one that has to move Mrs. Resnick into the chair?” Tobin asks.

 

“Uh-” Christen stammers. She sighs, begrudgingly as she opens the door and gets out of the car.  “Fine. Get her ready though.”

 

“You got it, neighbor,” Tobin says, giving her a thumbs up.

 

Christen narrows her eyes at her and Tobin gives her the most innocent look she can muster. Christen just narrows her eyes further, remembering all the shit she pulled. “Whatever,” Christen mutters as she turns on her heels to go inside.

 

“Tobin, be nice to Christen,” Mrs. Resnick lightly scolds.

 

“I am nice to her,” Tobin defends.

 

Mrs. Resnick clicks her tongue as she pats Tobin on the arm. “Sure you are, dear. If you like her just tell her. You don’t need to be mean. I heard girls don’t really like that.”

 

“What?!” Tobin sputters as she stares at the woman wide-eyed. “That’s the last thing I feel for that woman!”

 

Someone clears their throat from behind them and Tobin cringes. She turns around to see Christen waiting there with the wheelchair, her face was neutral, but Tobin can see how hard she’s gripping the handles of the wheelchair with her barely contained annoyance.

 

“Put her in the wheelchair, Tobin,” Christen orders, her voice completely even. Still, Tobin tries to see if she overheard the comment. It wasn’t really a bad comment. At least that’s what Tobin tells herself as she obeys her orders and put Mrs. Resnick in the wheelchair. She can see the old woman trying to stifle a laugh as Christen pushes her, not even looking back if Tobin follows. Tobin follows, slinking behind them.

-

-

-

“So you’re my neighbor,” Christen says as they wait inside the room that Mrs. Resnick will be checked into.

 

“Yep,” Tobin says as she plays with the strings on the chair.

 

Christen nods and lets the silence consume them again. Tobin looks around the bare room, trying to figure out a way to get out of the room without being rude.

 

Silence.

 

“You broke into my house.”

 

“Um, I don’t know about you, but I didn’t break into anything since I had a key,” Tobin says.

 

“Ha! So you admit it!” Christen says, pointing an accusatory finger at the brunette.

 

“I didn’t admit to anything,” Tobin says. “I merely said I entered the premises with a key that I have.”

 

Silence.

 

“So why did you forget to turn off your music anyway?” Tobin asks. “That’s very rude you know.”

 

Christen scoffs. “Excuse me?”

 

“I said it’s very rude,” Tobin repeats, a little more slowly and emphatically.

 

“I’m rude,” Christen says, disbelievingly. “You’re the one who refused  to turn down the music when I asked!”

 

“I did turn it down!’ Tobin says, confused. “You knocked and I turned it down.”

 

“And I knocked again, but you didn’t turn it down!”

 

“Huh,” Tobin says, trying to recall that night. She was insanely tired from practice as well as still trying to adjust to the time zone. “I swear to you that I do not remember your second knock.”

 

“Really?” Christen asks, ske[tically.

 

“I swear,” Tobin vows. “If I did, I would’ve turned down my music.”

 

Christen frowns as she realizes that this whole prank war could’ve been avoided if she just let it go like her mother and the police told her to.

 

“Look, you’ve been living here for awhile and I know that the previous tenants were a little bit of  dumbasses-”

 

‘A little?” Christen scoffs.

 

“Okay, a lot. I don’t really know how they got accepted into the university nearby,” Tobin admits, befuddled as she thinks about her two tenants. They paid rent on time and usually doesn’t call her with a problem so she thought that they were okay tenants. Although she did get calls from her neighbors (except Christen, surprisingly as she has the most history with them), complaining that her house was being used as a brothel or something with the sheer amount of people going in and out of the place.

 

“But I would never try to start a fight with my neighbor,” Tobin says. _Especially not with someone as hot as you,_ she would’ve added, but she thinks it’s a little too much.

 

Christen continues to give her a skeptical look. She really was unsure if Tobin was actually telling her the truth or was pulling her leg. The only interaction they had was basically just giving each other hell (although the pranks were harmless so she supposes it was more fun than anything messing with her neighbor) these last couple of months.

 

“Christen, I swear,” Tobin says again.

 

The sincerity in her voice makes Christen sigh as she nods. “Alright, fine. I believe you.”

 

Tobin gives her a bright smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. _Damn it,_ Christen curses in her head. _She’s cute._ “So are you going to apologize?” Tobin teases, her voice was light, wanting to show Christen it was just a joke.

 

“Why would I apologize?”

 

Tobin rolls her eyes and sticks out her hand. “Fine. Truce?”

 

“Truce.”  Christen takes her hand, a small jolt piercing her skin, making her let Tobin’s hand go abruptly. “Damn, static.”

-

-

-

“Hey, wake up.”

 

Christen jolts awake from her nap. She leans up, rubbing her eyes with her first, trying to wake herself up. She looks over the bed to see Mrs. Resnick, lying peacefully, sleeping.

 

“So, they said they’re keeping her for observation and they’ll release her tomorrow,” Tobin relays. “Do you wanna go home and change or something? Or run some errands? I can stay with her.”

 

Christen glances at the clock and cringes. “Oh yeah. I have to finish some stuff up and then come back.”

 

“Are you going to take a shower?”

 

Christen looks at her, confused at her question. “Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

 

“No,” Tobin laughs before she gives Christen a sheepish smile. “This was before the truce okay?”

 

Christen narrows her eyes at her, her voice steely. “What did you do, Heath?”

 

“Just know that if you have clean underwear that is not in your underwear drawer, use that,” Tobin advises.

 

Christen groans. “Heath!”

 

“Oops?”

 


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C&T try to be helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry that this took so long! I took a surprising hiatus (it was a surprise for me too, I didn't mean to do that). A little bit of good news, chapter 5 is 1/7 written so the next update is not going to take as long as this. Also, a bit of a change might come with this story the next update. 
> 
> Thank you for all your comments, kudos, feedback, and patience. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter!

Christen looks around the crowded plaza, trying to find her friend and quiet her mind at the same time. She still feels guilty that her neighbor might not have heard her and allowed herself to be pulled into something so childish (fun, but childish).  After Mrs. Resnick was discharged from the hospital (it was only a sprain and really it didn’t even impede her or anything, but Tobin and Christen didn’t want to risk. Tobin and Christen agreed to keep an eye on her for a week until she feels better, taking shifts. Tobin watches Mrs. Resnick while Christen was at work, Mrs. Resnick’s son (after much convincing) takes over a couple of hours that Tobin was in training, and Christen takes the night shift.  

 

“Hey!” A pale arm was waving frantically and Christen can see amidst the heads and shoulders that it was her friend, waving at her. Christen cuts through the line, trying not to meet the eyes of the people as she was sure they were wishing her to go to hell.

 

“I was going to order for you,” Kelley comments, nodding at the very intricate menu. “But good thing you got here because I have no idea what you want from this place.”

 

“I usually just get a sandwich,” Christen says. She orders her food as well as Kelley’s since she was the one that invited the latter to have lunch with her.

 

“So how goes the neighbor?” Kelley asks as she bites into the sandwich, moaning a bit when the flavor hit her taste buds.

 

“Oh we’re fine now, did I tell you that we kind of made up because our other neighbor had an accident?”

 

“Oh my god, is your neighbor okay?” Kelley asks.

 

“She’s fine, we just don’t want to leave her alone in case she needed anything else or something else happened to her. So we’re going to watch her for a week,” Christen explains. “But we’re in a truce right now.”

 

“So what prank did you end up going with?”

 

“Chicken bouillon,” Christen says.

 

Kelley stops mid-chew, fidgeting in her chair as she swallows loudly. “In the shower?”

 

“Yeah, how did you know?” Christen asks as she stops eating altogether and stares at Kelley. _Either she can read my mind or she knows who it is._

 

“And your neighbor put itchy powder in your underwear drawer?”

 

“Wait, you know Heath?” Christen asks, finally putting it together.

 

“Press, I play with her,” Kelley says. “You’ve met her before too. Freshman year. She played at UNC.” Christen gives her a look and Kelley immediately apologizes. “Sorry.”

 

Christen shrugs, waving off her concerns. “It’s fine. It’s been years.” Kelley continues to give her a concerned (and to Christen, pity) look. Christen sighs, exasperated. “It’s fine, Kelley.”

 

Kelley still continues to give her the look before she nods, slowly and says, “I can’t believe you and Tobin are neighbors. Small world.”

 

“Shouldn’t you know that? You’ve been to my place millions of times!”

 

“Yeah, but I haven’t visited her since she’s been back,” Kelley says. “And if we do hang out it’s at my place. To be honest, I think you scared her a bit.”

 

“Why would I scare her?” Christen asks, a bit offended. She doesn’t see herself as someone who’s scary.

 

“Okay, maybe scare isn’t the right word,” Kelley says as she tries to find a better word. She snaps her fingers when she finds it. “Intimidated! I think she’s a bit intimidated.”

 

“Again, why would she be? We haven’t even met until last week,” Christen says.

 

“Yeah but she probably saw you before and girl, one look at you, who wouldn’t be intimidated?”

-

-

-

Christen pulls into her favorite store, her grocery tote bag in one hand and a list in her mind. She was perusing the fish aisle, trying to decide between shrimp and salmon for the week. She ignores the feeling like she’s a loser as the most exciting that’s happening to her is that she’s not having chicken for the week.

 

“I would go with salmon, less of a mess.”

 

Christen looks behind her to see her a man that looks familiar, extremely familiar. She racks her brain trying to figure out where he’s from, but she couldn’t remember at all. His hair cut was all too common, his face looked like every white guy that ever tried to hit on her, but the dude was looking at her with familiarity.

 

When Christen doesn’t say anything, the dude actually reaches over to grab the salmon off the shelf and put it in her basket for her. Christen looks at him, surprise written on her face at his actions. _Is this guy for real?_

 

Christen reaches into her basket and takes the salmon out, grabs the shrimp, and starts walking away from the dude. As if that didn’t give him the hint that she’s not interested, the dude jogs up to Christen, his heavy breathing making Christen cringe as he increases his pace.

 

“Playing hard to get, huh?” He asks as he catches up to her when she makes a turn for the cereal aisle.

 

“No,” Christen says, her voice void of emotions and tonality.

 

The dude laughs as if he heard the funniest joke come out of Christen’s mouth. He picks something from his pocket and holds it out to Christen.

 

Christen gives the guy a strained smile, trying to convey with her actions that she’s not interested. “No thank you.”

 

The dude gave her a bright smile as if he wasn’t just rejected and drops the card into her basket. He gives her a wink before he leaves and Christen was left gaping after his ego. She looks down at the card as if she can burn it with her eyes just by giving it a death glare.

 

“That was painful to watch.”

 

Christen looks to see Tobin walking towards her, a yikes expression on her face. “How long have you been standing there? And shouldn’t you be with Mrs. Resnick, right now? Heath, we agreed that you can go at 7.”

 

“Long enough to know that our neighbor can’t take a hint,” Tobin says as she walks with Christen. “And calm down, her granddaughter came to visit so I thought I would give them some privacy. Annie said she’ll call me once they’re done.”

 

Christen nods, acknowledging her answer. She stops short when she replays the answer in her head, confused. “He’s our neighbor?”

 

“Uh yeah, he’s the douchebag that’s been parking at the handicap space,” Tobin says, her tone making it seemed like it was an obvious thing. “You got so riled up, I thought you would recognize him on sight so you can give him a lecture or something.”

 

“I can honestly say I do not remember that guy,” Christen says, still trying to rack

 

Tobin laughs. “Oh my god. I thought you were just playing hard to get.”

 

“You’ve been watching us?”

 

“Don’t make it sound like it’s creepy,” Tobin says, a little bit offended. “I was just seeing if you needed help so I followed you guys.” Tobin makes a face as she realizes how, yes it was creepy that she was following virtually a stranger even if they are neighbors and are currently help each other help their neighbor. Other than her last name and her dog’s name, Tobin knows nothing about Christen Press.

 

“Yeah stalking me through the grocery store that’s not creepy at all,” Christen mutters.

 

“Okay it sounds bad,” Tobin says, trying to think of a way to dig herself out of the hole she had just made. She holds up the shrimp packet. “Oh, but look I got the salmon you wanted.”

 

“Thanks, I think,” Christen mutters as she grabs it from Tobin’s hands and puts it in her basket.

 

“You’re welcome,” Tobin says, stuffing her hands in her pockets. They stop in front of the cereal aisle, unsure as to where this tentative truce was going.

 

“Oh,” Christen breathes softly when she remembered what she wanted to do. She stops short and sharply turns around, running into Tobin. Tobin’s hands immediately come up to her arms to steady her. Christen feels the warmth emanating from the tips of her fingers, caressing her skin underneath. She looks up, their eyes meeting.

 

To Tobin, she looks a bit like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

“Move!” Some teenager whispered harshly, bumping into them, forcing Tobin to let go of her so that they can move to the side.

 

“Watch where you’re going kid,” Christen whispers harshly, making Tobin snicker.

 

“Jeeze, Press, calm down,” Tobin says. “He’s just a kid who’s in a hurry.”

 

“Well he doesn’t have to be so rude about it,” Christen defends.

 

“He’s a teenager. They’re all rude,” Tobin laughs.

 

“That is...not an excuse,” Christen says as she walks towards the front of the store to pay.  She notices Tobin’s empty hands and looks at her in confusion. “You’re not getting anything.”

 

Tobin shakes her head. “No, I was here with a friend and I saw you-”

 

“So you ditched your friend?”

 

“Well you looked really uncomfortable and I wanted to rescue-”

 

“You wanted to rescue me because I’m a damsel in distress?” Christen asks with a bite in her tone.

 

“No because you looked like you wanted to kill our neighbor,” Tobin jokes. “So I stopped you from committing murder.”

 

“Oh,” Christen says. She wanted to laugh, but she with the way she treated her before, she felt a bit awkward. “Sorry.”

 

Tobin gives her her pearly whites. “No worries.” Tobin grabs her grocery bags as if it was instinct and follows Christen to the parking lot. Christen pops the trunk open and Tobin puts the grocery bags in there. She closes it and looks at Christen as if waiting for something.

 

“Thank you,” Christen says, giving Tobin the friendliest smile she can muster (and even that was strained).

 

Tobin smiles. “No problem, dude.” She pats her car and turns away to start walking back to their complex.

 

“Hey,” Christen calls again making Tobin stop and turn around. “Did you walk here?”

 

“Well I caught a ride with my friend,” Tobin says. “But it’s okay, I can walk.”

 

Christen rolls her eyes and opens the passenger door for her. “Get in, Heath.”

-

-

-

The silence in the car was driving Tobin insane. She didn’t want to reach over and flick the radio on because that’s considered rude. But she doesn’t want to sit in this silence that’s becoming unbearable to Tobin. She looks at her neighbor at the corner of her eye.

 

The woman seemed fine. She was staring straight ahead, concentrating on the road before them. Actually, she was concentrating too hard. Now that Tobin has taken a closer look, she can see that her neighbor wasn’t actually relaxed. There was a sheen of sweat dotting her hairline as well as the death grip that she had on the steering wheel that was turning her knuckles a shade lighter than the rest of her.

 

“Hey, how long have you known Mrs. Resnick?” Tobin asks, trying to distract her.

 

As if that snapped Christen out of her haze, she glances briefly over to Tobin, before resuming her unwavering stare to the road. “Huh, what?”

 

“Mrs. Resnick. How long have you known her?” Tobin repeats again.

 

“Uh...I would say almost three years?” Christen says as she tries to remember. “I met her when I moved in.”

 

“Oh did she give you some of her pie? Because that’s how she roped me in,” Tobin says, her mouth already watering at the thought of the delicious key lime pie.

 

“No, but it was a pie,” Christen says, her mind wandering back to almost three years ago, moving into their neighborhood. “She gave me like a pie every week after that.”

 

Tobin pouts. “Well, now I feel cheated. She only gave me one pie. I mean she would give me like some new recipes after that.”

 

“Well, now _I_ feel cheated,” Christen says as they pull into their neighborhood. “Hey, look the jackass isn’t parked here.”

 

“Park there!” Tobin encourages. “Mrs. Resnick has a placard that I can go and get real quick.”

 

Christen smiles. “I like the way you think.” She pulls into the parking spot and waits for Tobin to grab it. She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as she waits. A car pulls up next to her and Christen cringes as she realizes it was her neighbor. Like in high school when she sees someone she doesn’t want to, Christen slides down her seat, hiding, hoping that her neighbor doesn't see her.

 

The door opens, startling Christen as she looks up to Tobin. She gives Tobin an awkward smile.

 

“What are you doing?” Tobin asks.

 

Christen points to the car next to her and Tobin quickly looks over, a wicked smile flitting across her face. As she puts the placard on the rearview mirror, Christen can see Tobin holding her gaze with their neighbor as if she was trying to make him back down. Christen wanted to reach over and slap her to break the gaze, but she didn’t want to give herself away.

 

“All clear,” Tobin reports.

 

“Did you really have to do that?” Christen asks.

 

“Hey, I wasn’t the one hiding,” Tobin says.

 

“Point,” Christen replies.

 

They step out of the car, staring at each other, unsure as to what the next appropriate action should be. They did that weird are you or are you not moving dance before Tobin grabs her by the shoulder again and puts her to one side so she can move as well. Tobin gives her a quick wave before she starts heading towards their side of the complex and Christen starts walking to Mrs. Resnick’s.

 

“Oh, Tobin!” Christen calls, making Tobin stop and turn. “Do you wanna have dinner with Mrs. Resnick and me?”

 

Tobin nods. “That sounds great!”

-

-

-

“Press,” Tobin says, putting a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. “Wake up.”

 

“I’m awake!” Christen says, jolting awake, the blanket slipping off her shoulders.

 

“Here you go,” Tobin says presenting her with a cup of coffee. “I didn’t know what you like so I just got you black.”

 

“Thanks, Heath,” Christen says, truly touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

Tobin shrugs. “It’s an apology for you know accidentally starting a prank war.”

 

Christen smiles, although it was strained. Her reaction to the action was much of a start to the prank war as much the reaction as well. She takes sips of the coffee. The coffee tasting more bitter than usual to her.

 

“How was she?” Tobin asks.

 

“She says she has a little bit of pain in her hip but other than that she was a pain in the ass,” Christen says.

 

“I heard that!” Mrs. Resnick calls from her bedroom.

 

“You were supposed to hear that!” Christen calls back jokingly.

 

“Well, I’m here reporting for duty,” Tobin says.

 

“Let me just say goodbye to Mrs. Resnick,” Christen says as she walks to the bedroom at the back of the house.

 

“I’ll be here,” Tobin says as she sits down on the couch, going quickly through her phone, her eyes immediately blocking out the soft murmurings that she can hear from the bedroom.

 

After five minutes, Christen returns to the living room and gathers her stuff. “I’ll see you later then?”

 

“See you later,” Tobin confirms. She watches as Christen leaves. She looks at the door heading to the balcony, waiting for Christen to pass by. When she did, Tobin waves at her. Once Tobin was sure Christen made it to her townhouse, she goes to the bedroom to talk to Mrs. Resnick

 

“Hey, Mrs. Resnick,” Tobin greets.

 

Mrs. Resnick looks up from her tablet. “Are you the fun mom?” she jokes.

-

-

-

The coffee in the morning started to become a routine for them as they continue to watch over their neighbor. Christen always wakes up to Tobin’s whispers and a coffee under her nose (which Christen liked far too much than she cared to admit). While Christen always tries to make sure she has dinner covered for both Mrs. Resnick and Tobin.

 

“Wait so you said you and Kelley met during Stanford?” Tobin asks as she takes a gulp of her ice cold water.  Her face screws up at the non-taste of it.

 

Christen nods as she eats the dinner that she prepared for the three of them. “You have her to thank for all those pranks I pulled. I learned it all from her.”

 

Tobin laughs. “Dude, I got most of my pranks from her too. Except the first one. That was all me.”

 

“I think out of everything that was the one that made me mad the most,” Christen admits.

 

“Did you reorganize everything?” Tobin asks.

 

“No, who the hell has time for that?” Christen says, making Tobin laugh, just imagining Christen having to navigate her whole new kitchen.

-

-

-

“Press, wake up,” Tobin says, reminiscent of the first couple of awkward days they had to spend with each other after agreeing to take care of their neighbor. But this time she was a little more comfortable as she shakes Christen as hard as she can, knowing how stubborn the woman can be waking up for her job.  “Wake up or you’ll be late for your job.”

 

“Good then maybe they can fire me,” Christen mutters as she turns over and buries her face on the back of the couch even more.

 

Tobin sighs and starts making breakfast for both Christen and Mrs. Resnick, knowing that either one would be grumpy and would need the breakfast. Mrs. Resnick wanders into the kitchen first, awake and alert.

 

“Good morning, Tobin, dear,” Mrs. Resnick greets. “Do you need any help?”

 

“I’m good, Mrs. R,” Tobin says as she plates the food that she made, a basic sunny side up (really the only thing she can cook). “Here you go.” She puts the food in front of her before she goes back to trying to wake the grey-eyed girl.

 

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Resnick calls to her as she watched amusedly as Tobin tries to pull Christen from the couch.

 

“I have your favorite coffee,” Tobin says, as she tries to waft the smell towards her.

 

Christen finally rolls over and open her eyes. Tobin’s heart stutters when their eyes connected like some cliche movie that Tobin watches when she’s feeling extra emotional that day. She found the grey-eyed woman cute as she grumpily wakes up.

 

“Coffee please,” Christen says, her lips forming a pout as she holds her hand out.

 

“Go eat and I’ll give you your coffee,” Tobin orders.

 

“Fine!” Christen groans, stomping to table where Mrs. Resnick was eating. She sits down, making a show of eating the eggs and toast that Tobin has graciously prepared.

 

“I thought you would be the fun mom,” Mrs. Resnick tells Tobin as she puts Christen’s coffee in front of her.

 

“Hey, I’m very fun!” Tobin protests as she takes a seat.

 

“Yep, according to the screamer you brought last weekend,” Christen mutters as she eats her eggs, not meaning for the other two to hear her but with Tobin choking on her food and Mrs. Resnick laughing out loud. Christen’s face reddens as she realizes she’s been heard.

 

“Dears, I have to tell you something,” Mrs. Resnick says as she eats her eggs. “Not that I don’t appreciate you being here but I am fine by myself. You guys don’t have to watch over me.”

 

“But what if something happens to you?” Christen argues. The thought of something happening to her pseudo-mother makes Christen anxious. Three years running, Mrs. Resnick has treated her like family.

 

“I will be fine,” Mrs. Resnick says.

 

Tobin shrugs. “I mean if you think you’re okay, “

 

Christen turns to Tobin, glaring at her. “Tobin what if she falls?”

 

Tobin turns to Mrs. Resnick. “Yeah what if you fall?”

 

“Then I’ll call you,” Mrs. Resnick says, a finality in her tone that left no rooms for both women to protest. “Now, I want you guys to finish your food and get the heck out of here and enjoy the rest of your Friday! You’re young you should go out and have fun! Stop hanging out with an old bat like me!”

 

“You’re not an old bat, Mrs. Resnick,” Tobin says. “You’re like a peppy bat with the most spunk.”

 

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Resnick says as she reaches over and pinches her cheek. “Always the charmer. Don’t you worry, Tobin, Christen will fall for your charm soon.”

 

Tobin stammers and blushes, denying that she had feelings for Christen making Mrs. Resnick laugh as she pats her hand. “I’m just joking my dear. Well, I’m going to have a lie-down. Lock up when you’re finished.”

 

They watch their elderly neighbor, practically flit to her room. They hear the door close and the two women just stare at each other now that they’ve been basically kicked out by the person they were supposed to be watching.

 

“Uh, wanna go to the beach?” Christen suggests. She’s not ready to say goodbye to her yet. She’s gotten so used to this little display of domesticity every morning.

 

“Don’t you have work?” Tobin asks as she stands up and follows suit, putting her plate in the sink as well.

 

“Yeah but I can spare another hour or so,” Christen says as she put her plate in the dishwasher after she rinses it. Christen turns back to Tobin, smiling invitingly at her, “Let’s go?”

-

-

-

“So you’ve been living here for three years?” Tobin asks as they walk along the shore. Tobin tries to block out how very date like this. Christen hums, nodding her head. “It’s weird that I’ve only heard about you until I moved back in.”

 

Christen blinks her eyes owlishly at Tobin. “I don’t know whether or not to be offended,” Christen admits.

 

“Definitely do not be offended because the bros only talk about people when they wanna complain about them,” Tobin informs her. “And they’ve never talked about you until of course when I met them.”

 

“You’ve never met the bros renting your house?” Christen asks.

 

“Nope,” Tobin says as she sits down on the sand. She pats the space next to her and Christen sat down. “I went through a company to rent it out. I’m not really too keen on having to do all the paperwork and stuff.”

 

“Yeah, I can tell.”

 

Tobin raises her eyebrows at her. “Oh really? You can tell?”

 

“Yeah you just have that chill vibe thing going on,” Christen says, her hands motioning towards Tobin’s current attire of the day, which consisted of Nike joggers, tank top, and the ever present hat on her head.

 

“So what did the bros tell you about me?” Christen asks, genuinely curious. “We never really had a pleasant interaction aside from the first time I met them and when they moved out and they gave me wine.”

 

“Just that you guys had major disagreements,” Tobin says. A slow smile form on her face as she remembers the welcoming information that she received from the bros. “And that you guys had prank wars. Is this a thing you do with neighbors? Like a welcome to the neighborhood let me make your life a living hell?” Tobin teases.

 

“No,” Christen groans, the small pit of embarrassment making its way back up her stomach. “They didn’t tell you about the time they almost burned both of our houses down and tried to pin it on me?”

 

“What?!” Tobin exclaims. “Really?”

 

“Your agency didn’t tell you about it?”

 

“No like I said I was fine with them just handling everything,” Tobin says, shrugging. She looks at Christen, putting her fists underneath her chin. “But do tell how the bros almost made us both homeless.”

 

Christen rolls her eyes and Tobin can’t help but notice how they darken slightly at the feeling of annoyance coursing through her veins. She would be damn near blind if she couldn’t see how beautiful Christen Press truly is with her ever-changing color eyes that Tobin can never tear her eyes away from.

 

Christen starts her story, regaling her with how innocuous the pranks seem to be with just small harmful things (TP-ing her car, throwing eggs at each other’s doors, putting sticky peanut butter on their door knobs) until it escalated to someone using firecrackers to scare each other and ended up setting fire on both bushes.

 

“I mean it was a small fire, but a fire nonetheless,” Christen finishes as she sips the last of her wine. “We got fined and cited and almost arrested, but they couldn’t prove that either one of us did it.”

 

Tobin stares at her wide-eyed, making Christen giggle a bit. “I’m glad we’re friends now. You scare me a bit.”

 

“Is that what we are?” Christen asks

 

“Well I assumed since we’ve been spending almost every day together,” Tobin says. “Unless you don’t think so?”

 

Christen smiles as she nods. “No, friends is a good summation.”

 

“Okay good, because as your friend can I just tell you that you’ve had a booger stuck up your nose for the past hour and it’s been bothering me,” Tobin says as she taps her own nose.

 

“What?!” Christen says her hand immediately coming up to her nose to try and discreetly swipe it away.

 

Tobin laughs as she watches her predicament. “I’m just joking, Press.”

 

Christen glares at her and bumps her shoulder with her. “If this entails being friends with you, then never mind.”

 

“I’m kidding!” Tobin says. “I still want to be friends because I would rather be on your side with how evil your mind can get.”

 

Christen smiles. “I thought so.”

 

Tobin looks down at her phone, her eyes widening. “Hey, shouldn’t you go and get ready?”

 

Christen looks down at her own phone as well, groaning at the how much time has passed relatively quickly. She stands up, gathering her flip flops in her hands before addressing Tobin. “I guess it is time to go. I’ll see you around?”

 

Tobin nods, giving her a minute salute. “See you around, neighbor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me your thoughts!


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so I changed the title again, but this is definitely the last time I'll change it.
> 
> a little filler chapter.

Christen balances the tray of food between her arm and chest as she reaches over and knocks on Tobin’s door. She steps back not wanting the woman to feel crowded once she opens the door. She gives Tobin a big smile, catching the other woman off guard.

 

“Can I help you?” Tobin asks, trying to make her voice sound as friendly as possible. After their truce and the subsequent beach hangout that followed after, they didn’t really hang out much afterward.

 

“Uh, hi,” Christen stammers. She would be lying to herself a hell of a lot if she didn’t think her neighbor was hot.

 

“Hi,” Tobin says, giving her a smile.

 

Christen thrusts the tray towards her. “I made you food?”

 

“Oh, sweet! Thanks!” Tobin says as she takes the offered food from her hands. “What is it?”

 

“Ceviche,” Christen says, looking at Tobin to make sure she actually likes it.

 

“Awesome!” Tobin says as she steps back. “Wanna share a plate with me?”

 

Christen shakes her head, preparing to decline the invitation, but Tobin just shrugs it off and pushes her inside leading her to the counter. Christen follows her cautiously.

 

“Sorry, I don’t have a dining table,” Tobin apologizes sheepishly as she grabs two bowls from her cabinet to put the ceviche in.

 

“Or any furniture really,” Christen mutters as she stares at the bare walls with only the wicker furniture as a couch, the tv mounted above the fireplace, and a surfboard propped against one corner of the room.

 

Tobin shrugs. “Eh I still have time to buy all those shit.” She scoops some ceviche into the bowls and takes the tostadas out of the tray. “This is really good.” Tobin compliments, making Christen smile brightly.

 

“Have you had anything to eat today?” Christen asks.

 

Tobin shakes her head no. “Hey I know good food and this is good food! It doesn’t matter that my last meal was breakfast.”

 

“Don’t you need food for training?” Christen asks as she eats.

 

“Well yeah, but I just had a protein shake and that doesn’t really fill me up,” Tobin says as she continues to stuff her mouth with no regard for Christen.

 

Christen watches her in amusement before digging into her own bowl. The way Tobin devours her own portion made Christen a lot less self conscious as she eats the food that she made. Usually she hates eating her own food mostly because she works so hard over it that she just don’t feel like eating it anymore.

 

“So you said you’ve lived here for three years?” Tobin asks.

 

Christen nods. “Yep. What about you?”

 

Tobin thinks about it, counting the years in her head. “Almost five years, I think.”

 

“You don’t know?”

 

“To be fair, I bought the place and hightailed it to France,” Tobin says. “I haven’t actually lived in this place for more than two months, give or take a few days.”

 

“So is it weird living at one place then?” Christen asks.

 

“Nah.” She shakes her head as she finishes her food. “I mean at least now I have somewhere to put my crap in.”

 

“Where did you keep your things before?”

 

“Here, there, my sister’s house, my parent’s house, Kelley, Alex,” Tobin lists. “Actually I still have to go to Kelley’s house to pick up some stuff and my sister just had a kid so she’ll be glad to have that extra space.”

 

“You say you have a sister?”

 

“Sisters, actually,” she corrects. “And a younger brother.”

 

“So you’re the middle child?” Christen asks.

 

Tobin nods. “Yeah. What about you? You have two sisters, right?”

 

“Uh yeah,” Christen says, her eyes narrowing at how Tobin already seemed to have the information handy in her brain. “How did you…?”

 

Tobin looks sheepish as she answers, scratching the back of her neck as she looks down at her food. “From our prank war? I had to go in your bedroom to turn off your dumb music.”

Christen nods, but she still feels a little weirded out that Tobin remembers that. “Right.”

 

“So are they younger or older than you?” Tobin asks.

 

“Both,” Christen says.

 

“Oh so you're a middle child too,” Tobin says, loving the fact that they have something in common.

 

“Why do you think I can dish it as much as I can take it?” Christen snarks back making Tobin laugh.

 

“Middle child unite,” Tobin says holding up her fist for a bump.

 

Christen stares at the hovering fist.

 

“Oh come on don’t leave me hanging,” Tobin says again, wagging her fist up and down. “C’mon, you know you want to.”

 

Christen sighs and acquiesces, bumping her fist against hers.

 

“Alright!” Tobin says in a nasal accent, making Christen laugh. Tobin’s smile grows wider at the sound. “You have a nice laugh.”

 

The twinkle in Christen’s eye as she stares at Tobin knew she was about to be teased. “Why, Heath, are you trying to pick me up?”

 

Tobin scoffs. “Of course not, Press. I’m just saying that you don’t sound like a dying seal when you laugh.”

 

Christen chokes on a shrimp as she glares at her. “Nice.”

 

They finish their food in relative silence, unsure of what to talk about as well as just enjoying each other’s company (much to their disbelief).Christen opts to go home when they finished eating  as she still has to finish work she brought home. Tobin jumps up from her stool, grabbing their empty bowls and utensils to put aw

 

“Hey, do you want the leftovers?” Tobin calls from the kitchen as she packs up the food again in case Christen actually wanted it.

 

“You can have them,” Christen says. Then she admits as an afterthought. “I actually made them for you.”

 

“Oh,” Tobin says, curiously, her head tilted to the side. She can see the slight embarrassment that the woman had for admitting it, so she just lets it go opting instead to show her gratitude. “Well thank you. I hate cooking so a homecooked meal is always awesome!”

 

Christen smiles and Tobin swears her heart stops at the sight of it. “You’re welcome. I might just have to pawn my food to you when I make too much,” she teases.

 

“I’d be happy to be your trash can,” Tobin jokes (a little bit seriously as well as she really hates cooking).

 

Christen laughs. “I’ll hold you to that Heath.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I have to go get ready for bed. I have work tomorrow.”

 

Tobin walks her to the door. “Thanks again for the food and company, Press.”

 

“Bye,” Christen says, giving her a smile over her shoulder.

 

“Bye.”

 

Tobin closes the door and plops down on her couch, wincing as she hits the wooden couch with a little more force, the wood digging into her back. She grabs her 3DS off the coffee table and plays a couple of rounds of Mario Kart before heading up the stairs to her bedroom.

 

She puts on music once she gets to her room, bopping along to the music as she gets ready for bed, not realizing how loud the music was getting.  Halfway through the second song, she hears a polite knock against her wall. She smiles as she grabs her phone and turns the music down. She hears a final knock as if saying _thank you_. Tobin knocks back once to acknowledge it, the smile still on her face.

-

-

True to her word, Christen would call Tobin over when she makes too much food under the guise of not wasting food, but at the same time she started enjoying her company. One day a week turned two days turned three. Until pretty soon, Tobin was spending each afternoon at her apartment, practically eating out of her fridge. Christen didn’t mind though as she was good company, always ready to lend an ear to her work problems or even just a hand whenever she needed it. Tobin was surprisingly talkative, always asking weird questions or scenarios that it boggles Christen’s mind (also weirds her out a bit, but she lets it slide). Even Fred anticipates her arrival, always waiting by the door ready to greet her.

 

It got to the point that Christen let her keep the key from the fake rock so that Tobin can do things like take the chicken out of the fridge or start the water boiling so that she doesn’t have to wait long for Christen’s food.

 

“Okay so, I wanna apologize,” Christen says as they lay on the beach, the sand sticking to the surface of her skin because of how wet she is.

 

“Apologize for what?” Tobin asks as she throws the ball for Fred towards the surf, cringing at how Christen was just laying there without any barrier between her skin and the sands. “Don’t you wanna lay down on your board?”

 

They watch as Fred bounds into the water, eyes on the ball as she continues to pump her leg underneath the water. Tobin watches Fred like a hawk and Christen, knowing how great of a swimmer Fred was, was picking the sand off of her arms and legs. A small smile tugs at her lips when she sees the concentrated look on Tobin’s face.

 

“Why would I?” Christen asks, putting her arms out so she was sprawled on the ground. Tobin cringes even more. Christen laughs at her expression. “Out of everyone, I would think you would be the one that does not care about this.”

 

“Yeah, but the cleanup!” Tobin says. She can just imagine the sand getting stuck in every nook and cranny of her body as well as her house. She shakes her head at the image. “I just hate having to clean up.”

 

“What clean up? The only thing you have in your house is a bed and a tv,” Christen teases as she sits up, brushing the sand off. She gestures for Tobin to sit up so she can sit next to her on her board. Once Tobin did so, Christen sits next to her to watch the waves with her.

 

“Hey!” Tobin says, lightly pushing her. “I haven’t had time to do some furniture shopping, alright?”

 

“You’ve lived there for almost five months, Heath,” Christen points out.

 

Tobin shrugs as she thinks of the wicker couch, the bed, and her tv. “I mean I got everything I need.”

 

“Clearly,” Christen says. “Aren’t any of the girls you bring home appalled at your living conditions?”

 

Tobin shrugs. “I mean at first,” she waggles her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “But then, of course, they forget all about it when I’m between their legs.”

 

“You’re disgusting,” Christen says, her nose wrinkling.  

 

“Okay, stop insulting me,” Tobin says, giving her a playful glare. “And before this lovefest, you said you were apologizing for something?”

 

Christen blushes a deep red as she looks away. She’s never been really good at apologizing nor is she good at having to talk about her feelings. “Uh,” she stammers. “Just how we got off to a bad start because I made assumptions.”

 

Tobin shrugs, dismissing both the apology and the actions that caused the apology. “Press,” she says, exasperated. “You’ve more than made up for it when you cooked dinner for me three times in one week and every week after that.”

 

Christen nods and says, a small smile on her face. “Yeah and now look at you I can’t even get rid of you now.”

 

Tobin gives her a big, devilish grin. “And you never will!” She lets out an evil laugh. “Soon I will take over your world!”

 

Christen rolls her eyes. “You’re getting ahead of yourself there.”

 

“Oh I’m not,” Tobin says, her voice held an air of knowing as if she’s predicting their future. “And soon you will accept your destiny.”

 

Christen scoffs, attracting Fred’s attention as the dog runs to her owner and starts licking her face and around her mouth. “Ah! Fred, down girl. I’m fine.”

 

Tobin grabs Fred’s ball and throws it in the water again while Christen encourages the dog to grab the ball. They continue to lay out in the sun for at least an hour more, letting the sun burrow deep into their skin, letting the water evaporate. When Tobin looks over at Christen, the raven-haired girl was already asleep, her wild curls laying behind her as her lips parted in a sigh as she slept.

 

Fred was lounging beside their feet but when she hears Tobin make a move, she rises on her paws and looks at Tobin over Christen’s body as if asking _can we go now?_

 

“You wanna go, girl?” Tobin asks.

 

Fred’s tail thumps against the sand, kicking up the granules around her, making Christen stir. “Whu?”

 

“Let’s go, Press,” Tobin says as she gathers up in their stuff and throws it in Christen’s bag.

 

“Ugh, fine,” Christen groans as she gets up as well.

 

They walk on the sand, dragging their feet through it while Fred runs ahead of them towards Christen’s house. Instead of jumping the fence like she usually does in order to enter Christen’s gated yard, Fred runs towards the front, making Christen’s heart jump into her throat as she screams after her dog, scared that Fred might get run over.

 

Tobin drops her stuff and runs after Fred, with Christen hot on her heels. When Tobin rounds the corner of Christen’s house, she can see Fred being petted and rubbed by a girl who looked similarly like Christen. Tobin presumes it’s her sister.

 

Fred, hearing Tobin’s footsteps, looks over to her direction before trotting over, her tongue hanging out as she pants. Tobin reaches down and rubs her chest as Fred leans against her.

 

“Hello,” Tobin greets.

 

“Hi,” The young woman greets. She really does look a lot like Christen with her gray eyes and that same curly hair. “Who are you?”

 

“I’m Tobin Heath,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’m your sister’s neighbor.”

 

The girl’s eyes lit up as if in recognition and Tobin cringes internally knowing Christen had probably ranted at her sister when they were both at odds with each other.

 

“Channing?”

 

Tobin looks over her shoulder to see Christen walking towards them, the things that Tobin dropped, ladened in her arms. Christen hands her both of her things to her

 

“What are you doing here?” Christen asks as she unlocks the door to let the two women in.

 

Tobin immediately goes to Christen’s kitchen to grab the fresh fruit that Christen always cut for her. Christen follows, asking Channing if she wanted a drink.

 

“Just thought I’d visit my lovely sister,” Channing answers as she takes a seat on the couch with Fred by her side. She watches in rapt fascination as her sister and her sister’s neighbor, works seamlessly with each other as if they’ve been together their whole lives, joking around over the kitchen counter.

 

“Hey, I’m going to go take a shower, real quick,” Tobin whispers to Christen before she tells Christen’s sister the same thing as she lets herself out.

 

“I’ll see you later, Tobin!” Channing calls to Tobin just as the door shuts. Channing gets up from the couch and walks toward Christen who was preparing their lunch. “She seems nice.”

 

“Who?” Christen asks distractedly as she unwraps the beef from the fridge, setting it out on the counter so that she could tenderize it.

 

“Tobin,” Channing says as if it was obvious. “It’s great that you’re making friends again.”

 

“I have friends,” Christen says as if offended. “I have Julie and Kelley and…”

 

“I’m talking about friends that you made after...” Channing trails off.

 

“Well, I have a friend that I met after,” Christen says as she takes the vegetables from the fridge so that they can wash it.

 

“Mrs. Resnick doesn’t count when she’s practically your grandmother,” Channing says.

 

Christen hits the meat unnecessarily hard, making Channing drop the carrots that she was washing. “Why are you even bring this up, Chan?”

 

Channing sighs as she turns around to face her sister. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I just like seeing you happy.”

 

“I’m sorry for snapping,” Christen apologizes. The slam of the door effectively diffuses the tension as both sisters look towards a guilty-looking Tobin standing in the doorway, hair wet and an awkward smile on her face.

 

“Is this a bad time?” Tobin asks, one hand on the doorknob ready to make a run for it. She came just as Christen hit the meat with such force it made Tobin wince (and frankly, it turned her on a bit, but that’s a feeling she’ll revisit later. _Way later_ ).

 

“You’re good, Heath,” Christen assures her. “Sister bonding and make Christen feel the guilty time is over.”

 

Tobin goes inside and immediately starts helping Christen with the meat, taking over the tenderizing part of it.

 

“Heath, can you boil the pasta too? I’m going to take a shower,” Christen instructs Tobin. She takes the pasta box out of the cupboard before she goes upstairs to take her shower and to shake off the rest of the sand that was in every nook and cranny of her body.

 

“You got it, Press!” Tobin calls after her.

-

-

-

As Christen walks down the stairs, letting her hair air out it’s natural curls, she hears Tobin’s laughter floating to her, an involuntary smile ghosts on her face. She walks a little faster upon hearing it, scared what the two have bonded over. When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, she can see that Channing probably finished the food and it was now served on the table. Channing and Tobin were sitting at the table, Tobin was laughing while Channing was relaying a story to her.

 

“...so she grabs the neighbor’s cat, holds her hostage-”

 

_Oh no._

 

“-just so our neighbor would put a shirt on when he mows the lawn,” Channing finishes.

 

“You really like messing with your neighbors, huh, Press?’ Tobin asks when she sees Christen enter the room.

 

Christen glares at Channing, pointing the fork at her sister, threateningly.  “Why are you telling her lies?” Christen asks as she puts her towel over the couch and sits at one of the chairs.

 

“Hey,” Channing says as she holds up her hands as if to placate Christen. “She wanted to know some stories.”

 

“I can’t wait to hear more on Saturday,” Tobin says, casually as she eats the pasta that they’ve just finished cooking.

 

“What’s on Saturday?” Christen asks, confused.

 

“You know,” Tobin says as she looks at Christen, equally confused. Tobin can feel dread seeping into her body at Christen’s continued confusion. “The lunch with your parents?”

 

“The lunch…” Christen trails off before her eyes swing to her sister’s who looks down at her food, picking at it. “Channing, what did you do?”

 

Tobin’s eyes widen at the realization that Christen had no idea about the lunch and that she’s been used by Channing. “Ah…” Tobin says awkwardly as she grabs the plate. “I’m going to go upstairs, Press.” She didn’t give Christen a chance to answer as she hightails it up the stairs to Christen’s office, not wanting to be there when Christen releases her ire. She made a show of closing the door to the office to alert her that she was in her office and not eavesdropping.

-

-

-

“I can’t believe you, Chan,” Christen hisses at her sister once she was sure Tobin was no longer in hearing range.

 

“I’m sorry!” Channing apologizes. “But they just wanna see you, Chris!”

 

“I’m not ready, Chan!” Christen says, angrily. “I can’t believe you would use an unsuspecting woman just for this.”

 

“Christen, please, it’s only lunch,” Channing pleads. “If it goes bad-”

 

“-which it will.”

 

Channing ignores her interruption. “ _If_ it goes bad. I’ll tell mom and dad to stop trying to reach out to you. I promise you they’ll be on their best behavior.”

 

Christen was silent, mulling over her sister’s promises. She looks over at Channing, who was just giving her a pleading look. Christen sighs. “Fine. I’ll go, but one bad comment and I'm gone."

 

Channing nods, excitedly that her sister was finally agreeing. “Yeah, of course! I’ll even help you escape if it comes to that.”

 

Christen just shakes her head, heaving a deep sigh, already thinking of things that can go wrong.

-

-

-

 

“Ah!” Christen screams as she opens the door to see Tobin standing there with coffee.

 

“Shh!” Tobin shushes as she takes a quick glance over her shoulder to her door. She seems to wait for something to happen and when nothing happens, she turns back to Christen handing her a coffee.

 

Christen takes the coffee with narrowed eyes at her neighbor. “What’s up with you, Heath?”

 

The door to Tobin’s starts opening and Tobin pushes Christen back inside her house, nearly toppling her over and spilling the coffee. Tobin puts her hand over Christen’s mouth to stop her from talking.

 

Christen was suddenly hyper aware of how close they are with the banister digging at her back. Up close, she can see Tobin’s smooth tanned skin and the flecks of darker brown in her light brown eyes as well as how long her lashes are. Her eyes are actually quiet beautiful now that Christen thinks about it.

 

“What are you doing?” Christen asks, her voice muffled from Tobin’s hand. Tobin shushes her again and Christen sighs, audibly trying to convey her displeasure. “Heath.”

 

Tobin continues to pay her no mind as it looks like she’s listening to something outside. Christen sighs before she opens her mouth and bites down on the palm of Tobin’s skin. Tobin yelps and looks down at Christen in surprise.

 

“You bit me,” she says, confused as she holds her palm in her hand. She looks down at it, seeing the saliva and small teeth marks. “Gross.” She reaches over and wipes it on Christen’s shirt. “Did you really have to bite me?”

 

“You wouldn’t tell me what was going on!” Christen defends.

 

Tobin gives her a salacious smirk. “Kinky, Press.”

 

“Heath, I swear to God,” Christen starts. “What is going on?”

 

“Hey, can I go to your room real quick?”

 

“No,” Christen says, getting annoyed that she still won’t answer her question, but even that was lost as Tobin was already halfway up the stairs. Christen groans and follows her. She watches as Tobin puts her ear against the wall, a finger already up to her lips. Christen goes to her bathroom, grabs the glass that she uses for brushing her teeth and brings it back to her room. She taps Tobin on her shoulder and holds it out to her.

 

“Thanks,” Tobin mouths as she puts the glass against the wall and her ear against the glass. A couple of moments later, she stands up, cursing. “Damn it! She’s still there.”

 

“Oh my god,” Christen says as the realization hits her. “You’re in here to hide aren’t you?”

 

Tobin shrugs. “I just don’t want to deal with that, you know?”

 

Christen rolls her eyes, flicking Tobin’s ear before she starts walking out of the room. She calls over her shoulder. “Whatever, Heath. I have to go to work. You have your key. Lock up when you’re done.”

 

“Thank you!” She hears Tobin call after her.

 

Christen just throws a thumbs up in the air as she goes down the stairs. As she was locking her door, Tobin’s door open. She stops just to see a brunette woman with long legs and tanned skin, coming out of Tobin’s house, wearing Tobin’s shirt.

 

“Hi,” Christen greets.

 

The woman freezes and turns to Christen. She sizes Christen up before giving her a big grin. “Hi, do you live there?”

 

“Seeing as I just lock the door, yeah I do,” Christen answers, trying to down her sassiness. She can’t help it there was something nagging about the woman, but Christen couldn’t figure out what it is.

 

The woman giggles and Christen swear it sounds like nails on a chalkboard. She really doesn’t see what Tobin sees in the women she brings home. “Did you see your neighbor?”

 

Christen was about to tell her  _no_ when she thought of a better idea. She holds up one finger and takes her keys out again. She opens the door to her own house and gestures to the woman. “She’s upstairs. She’s all yours.”  _That'll teach her._

 

The woman looks at her skeptically and Christen tries to give her the friendliest face that she can muster. She must look crazy offering the woman entry to her house. She could be walking into a murder house for all she knows. Christen guesses she looks friendly enough that the woman actually goes inside her house. She bids them goodbye and to have fun and closes the door to her house.

 

She was just getting in her car when she hears a loud thud. She looks up just to see Tobin getting up from the ground, the sand breaking some of her fall, brushing her hands on her knees she starts running the opposite direction of her house. Christen opts to be a couple of minutes late as she waits to see what the woman do.

 

Her door was thrown open and the woman walks out, looking around the parking lot. Christen slides down on her chair not wanting to be spotted. She watches as the woman continues to look around before apparently she giving up as she goes back inside Tobin’s apartment. Only to appear a moment later, purse in her hands and her shoes in her feet as she starts walking to the entrance of the complex.

 

Christen laughs under her breath as she carefully pulls out of her parking spot and drives to work. The feeling of gleefulness carries her through the work day.

-

-

-

Tobin looks around Christen’s bedroom. She remembers how neat and organized it was the first time she was here. Although she didn’t really remember the decor as she was too busy hunting for the godawful noise.

 

It was very minimalist. No decor on the white walls. The speakers that she was using was gone as well as the two nightstands. Her bed only had a gray comforter and apart from the off-white dresser and the black bookshelf sitting next to the bay window, she didn’t have a lot of furniture.

 

Tobin goes to the bookshelf first as one of the shelves held a couple of framed pictures. She sees a younger Christen, a hat on her head, with her two sisters, dressed up in some kind of white dresses, hugging a dog. They couldn’t have been older than 10 at that point. She can see either a missing tooth in Christen’s smile or an unfortunate gap. She moves on to the next picture and again it was a picture of her and her sisters. This time they were all grown, Christen wearing a black cap and gown. She assumes it was her college graduation. Christen was holding up her diploma. Tobin squints her eyes to try to find out what university she went to.

 

Her head snaps up from the picture when she hears Fred barking. She freezes, waiting to hear who the intruder is as she just heard Christen leave. Her eyes widen as she hears the voice of her companion last night. She looks around the room trying to find an escape, in her panic the first thing she thought of was the back window. She opens it, happy that Christen didn’t have a net over it. She swings one leg over the window and carefully tries to climb down, but loses her footing so she ends up just down on the ground. She limps away from the scene, thinking that she broke her ankle, but when she hears someone calling her name, she put her foot down and ran.

-

-

-

“You’re still here?” Christen says as she opens her doctor after she came back from work. “Don’t you go to training?” She takes off her sweater and her bag, putting them by the door

 

Tobin turns over from the sofa to watch Christen put her stuff away. “I would, but I got injured,” she says with a very pointed look at her. She watches Christen’s reaction, trying to stifle a laugh.

 

“Oh my god,” Christen fusses as she goes over to Tobin, immediately going to her leg. She felt remorse sweep over her as she sees a boot on Tobin’s foot. “Did you break it?”

 

“How did you know it was my foot?” Tobin asks, giving Christen a smirk.

 

Christen goes rigid and as if Tobin’s foot burned her, she pulls her hand away. “Uhh…” She gets up and turns away from Tobin, heading towards the kitchen to make them something.

 

“Ha! So you saw me climb out the window!” Tobin accuses as she takes off the ankle support and goes after her.

 

“Fine! I did!” Christen admits. She turns around just to see Tobin walking towards her with no problem. “You’re not even injured!”

 

“I’m not! I just wanted to see how you would react!” Tobin says as she sits on the counter to watch Christen. “Confirmed my suspicions.”

 

Christen rolls her eyes as she prepares the pasta. “Oh please. I needed a little bit of entertainment in the morning. I just knew today was going to suck ass.”

 

“If you hate that job so much why don’t you just quit?” Tobin says as she reaches over the counter to the bowl of fresh fruit that Christen set out, knowing how hungry Tobin tends to be after practice.

 

Christen shrugs. “Routine is good.”

 

“Routine is _boring_ ,” Tobin scoffs.

 

“Speaking of boring,” Christen says as she starts mincing some onions and garlic in the sauce. “Since you kindly, said yes to my sister’s invitation. You’re coming with me for that lunch.”

 

Tobin drops the fruit that was dangling from her mouth. She quickly scoops it up and eats it. “Nice try, my dear, but I have a game that day.”

 

“So? Come after the game,” Christen shrugs. Tobin gives her a wide-toothed smile and Christen already knew what her answer is. “I hate you right now. You said yes to it and you have a game that day! How convenient!”

 

“I’m sorry! I thought my game was on a Sunday not a Saturday,” Tobin apologizes. “You’ll be fine. It’s a lunch with your parents, how bad can it be?”

"You have no idea," Christen whispers. 


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, short chapter, but I'm trying to get back into writing this one.

When Christen feels the tickle at the back of her throat, she usually heads to the nearest drugstore to grab some medicine and cough drops, but with the pending lunch/dinner with her parents, she ignores it. She drowns herself in water as she tries to get through work, ignoring her itchy throat. By the end of the day, she had a painful, throbbing headache and an itchy throat.

 

When she gets home, she immediately throws herself on the bed, burrowing underneath the covers until only her head was above the covers. She can knock out as Tobin wasn’t coming over today as she had to fly out for her game. The remote was in her hands as she tunes in on Disney Channel. Christen had a bad habit of watching Disney movies when she was feeling down and it wasn’t Disney classics like the Lion King or Mulan. 

 

“Excuse me D-what?” Tobin asks when they decided to hang out in Tobin’s apartment instead of Christen’s. 

 

Christen grabs the throw pillow and shoves it underneath her head, trying to get comfortable on Tobin’s wicker couch. “DCOMs.”

 

“Yeah because repeating it actually explains what it is,” Tobin says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  

 

“Disney Channel Original Movies.” Christen rolls her eyes, she can feel her cheeks reddening as she admits this. “You know Disney movies that they don’t show in the theatres.”

 

Tobin’s brows furrow as she tries to remember any Disney movies she’s seen be called a DCOM. “Like movies that suck so bad so they don’t want them to see the light of day?”

 

“Hey!” Christen says, offended, kicking Tobin’s leg. “First of all, they are pretty good movies! Second of all-” Christen shrugs, “Yeah they kinda suck, but I love how cheesy they are.”

 

Tobin shakes her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looks over to Christen. “You are so weird.”

 

It is a little weird that Christen loves those cheesy children’s movies, but there’s just something so simple and easy the way they explain about life that it soothes Christen’s anxiety addled one. Since the plots are usually so predictable and the dialogue so cut and dry that she can easily fall asleep to the dull volume of the television, even with the symptoms of death in her body.

 

When she wakes up the next day, her throat was sore and her headache has intensified. She pumps her fist as she grabs her phone and sends a quick text to her sister telling her that she was sick. She even added the emoji with one tear to show her that she really did feel bad about missing this little get together.

 

And she did feel bad. She knows that deep down, she should start bridging the gap, but the petty part of her just wanted to draw this out. She’s not really sure if she’s ready to face them again. 

 

She settles down against the cushions, her laptop on her lap and some odd channel playing in the background as she started to do work for the She-Devil of her boss.

 

Half-way through trying to work though, she ended up on the floor with Fred, playing with her. Her heart felt lighter, no longer tight at the fact that she didn’t have to do something she dreaded.

 

There was a swift knock to her door, startling her as she wasn’t really expecting anyone. She throws the stuffed elephant across the room for Fred to run after while she opens the door to see who could it be. 

 

She peeps through the peephole, her eyes widening when she sees her sister standing on the other side. She yanks the door open, scaring her sister.

 

“Huh, you’re actually sick.” Her sister comments upon seeing her red nose and watery eyes.

 

Christen scowls at her sister. “What you think I was lying?”

 

“Yeah,” Channing said as she steps inside Christen’s house. 

 

“Rude.”

 

Fred comes bounding from the kitchen the stuffed elephant in her mouth. She drops it off to Christen before she goes to Channing greeting her. 

 

Channing gives Fred an obligatory belly rub before standing up to look at her sister. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Christen asks. “Shouldn’t you be with Mom and Dad?”

 

“Just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Channing says as she stands up. Fred whines at losing the human who was petting her, but quickly got over it when she sees her ball a few inches in front of her. 

 

“And to see if I was lying if your words were anything to go by,” Christen says, the scowl between her brows deepening.

 

“Can you blame me?” Channing retorts. “You run away from all of your problems.”

 

Christen glares at her sister. “I do not.”

 

“When you and Nima broke up, you went to New York,” Channing points out. “When the accident happened, you disappeared for almost a year.”

 

“I did not disappear, I was right here!” Christen argues. “And I went to New York, not because Nima and I broke up! We weren't even dating! It was just weird timing!”

 

“Yeah, but you basically became a hermit! You wouldn’t take our calls. We didn’t know how to reach you! You might as well have been dead too!”

 

“Stop, Chan!” Christen says, her voice hard as steel as she glares at her. 

 

Channing sighs. “I’m sorry, Chris.” She runs a hand through her hair in frustration as she huffs. “I just felt like everything fell apart and-.” She groans as she pats her thighs. “I’m supposed to be having the time of my life in college, but instead I’m trying to piece our family together-” 

 

Christen watches her for a moment. Before everything had happened, Channing was a little more mellow, never really up to the confrontation, more of letting everything work it out. She wasn’t really the one to fix everything, but she supposes of how she crumbled that it really did fall to Channing’s shoulder. 

 

“I really did want to go, you know,” Christen refuses to meet her eyes, shame builds within her at the fact that she tried to get out of this again, leaving Channing all alone. “I just got sick.”

 

“It’s fine,” Channing says, though her voice clearly said it was not. 

 

Christen looks up at her, trying to show she was as sincere as possible. “What if we reschedule?”

 

Channing looks at her surprised at the offer. She thought she would have to come back empty handed with a rain check from Christen and no reconciliation in sight. Lunch with her parents would’ve been much more forlorn and quiet. At least this time there’s hope for them. 

 

“Really?” 

 

Even though her heart was telling her no and her mind was trying to psych her out of it, she nods her head firmly. “Yeah. Let’s reschedule.”

 

Channing gives her a big smile and she reaches over, pulling Christen into her arms. “Thanks, sis.”

 

Christen buries her face against Channing’s neck. “Text me when you have a date and I’ll check my schedule, okay?” She pulls away.

 

Channing nods. “Feel better.”

 

Christen shows her out, reiterating that she really wanted to reschedule this. She sits on the couch letting out a sigh, shoulder slumping as she lets out an audible exhale. The tightness and pressure that she felt in her chest returns, not wanting to linger on it, Christen grabs Fred to go to the beach.

 

The beach was always her refuge even with how open it is and never ending it seems, she feels safe and content as the surf laps against her feet and Fred happily runs into the ocean to get the ball. 

 

Her phone dings and she looks down to see a text from Tobin. 

 

_ How were your parents? _

 

_ Meh,  _ Christen replies. A second after she sends the text, a picture of Tobin’s photo pops up as her phone starts ringing. Tobin’s contact photo never fails to make her laugh.

 

“What’s up, Heath?” 

 

“C’mon, Press, you can’t reply to my text with a  _ meh _ and not expect me to call,” Tobin says. Christen can hear Tobin shuffling around on her end. “Did it go badly?”

 

“Well if I went to it then I think it would’ve ended badly,” Christen says as she throws the ball for Fred again. 

 

“You didn’t go to it?” Tobin asks. 

 

“I’m sick,” Christen says, exaggerating her cough. 

 

Christen smiles wider as Tobin laughs. “You are such a liar!”

 

“You’re supposed to say  _ boo you whore _ ,” Christen responds as she picks up the ball and rolls it the other way from the ocean. Fred huffs and runs after it, tail wagging. 

 

Tobin groans. Tobin found out that Christen had never seen  _ Mean Girls  _ (which she thought was weird since Tobin pegged Christen to be a  _ Mean Girls  _ fan and Christen did not peg Tobin to be a fan, at all) and forced her to sit through the movie during one of their dinners. Since then, Christen had been quoting the movie. “Alright, Regina. Are you really sick?”

 

Christen takes a quick selfie and sends it to Tobin. “Do I look like I’m lying?”

 

“Ooh,” Tobin says and Christen can actually see her wincing in her head. “You look horrible!”

 

“I can always count on you to lift my spirits up, Heath,” Christen says. 

 

“You’re welcome, Press. But guess what I saw today?” 

 

“What?”

 

Christen lays back on the sand, not caring about getting the little granules everywhere. She listens to Tobin’s voice, letting her stories entertain her. They talked about everything that happened yesterday and today, including Derby, the roller skating dog that Tobin took a video off that she sent to Christen and how Channing came by or how Christen got sick (she swears it’s the little boy that sneezed in her face right when she walked by). 

 

Christen didn’t realize that they’ve been talking for hours until she felt Fred, hovering over her lower body, licking her stomach, her way of saying that she needs to be fed. 

 

“Oh shoot,” Christen says as she sits up. “Hey, Heath, I gotta go. I need to feed Fred.”

 

“Oh,” Tobin says and Christen swears she hears the disappointment in her voice. 

 

“Is that disappointment I hear, Heath?” Christen teases as she brushes off the sand. 

 

“You wish, Press,” Tobin says, a smile in her voice. “And hey, I’m proud of you for rescheduling that.”

 

“You won’t be because you’re coming with me,” Christen says before she can hear Tobin’s muffled protests on the other end.

-

-

-

Tobin looks through the stacks of postcards, trying to find the most appropriate one to send to Christen. A couple of games back when Tobin thought Christen was going to have planned with her parents, she found this postcard of a dog that she thought would cheer her up if it went wrong. Even though she got there before the postcard did (and way after the planned lunch). 

 

“Hey, I think we’re about to go,” Kelley says. “I feel like with how many times we’ve been here for games, postcards and souvenirs aren’t a good buy.”

 

“It’s not for me,” Tobin mumbles as she looks through the next stack. 

 

“Ooh, do you have a girlfriend, Toby?” Kelley coos, reaching over and pinching her cheek. 

 

Tobin swats her hand away. “It’s for my neighbor!”

 

“Christen is your girlfriend?” Kelley raises her hand, waiting for Tobin to high-five her. “Yeah, get that!”

 

Tobin grabs her arm and pulls it down. “It’s not like that, Kell.” She keeps looking through the stack, not finding a postcard with any animals on it. “We should’ve gone to the zoo,” she mutters. 

 

Kelley looks over her shoulder. “What exactly are you looking for?” 

 

“A postcard with an animal doing a funny thing,” Tobin explains distractedly, her eyes never leaving the stack as she goes through the postcards.

 

“Oh because she’s a vet?” Kelley asks as she grabs a stack from the rack below to help Tobin. 

 

“She’s not a vet,” Tobin says, confused, looking up from her stack. 

 

“Oh yeah, she hasn’t been a vet since her sister died,” Kelley says it nonchalantly as if it was common gossip, still looking through the postcards. 

 

“Her sister died?” Tobin whispers softly, her heart hurting for Christen at this new information.

 

“Yeah,” Kelley says, still in that same casual tone. She holds up a postcard, a grin on her face. She stops when she sees Tobin with tears in her eyes. She sighs. “Christen hasn’t told you, huh?”

 

Tobin shakes her head. “No. I mean it explains all those vet books I saw in her house.”

 

“Yeah they were in a car accident,” Kelley explains. “Christen loved being a vet. I was really surprised she didn’t get back to it after she recovered.”

 

“She was in the accident?” Tobin asks, horrified. 

 

“Yeah,” Kelley says, puzzled. “She really hasn’t told you?”

 

“No,” Tobin says,

 

Kelley shrugs it off. “She’ll probably tell you when she’s ready.”

 

“Yeah,” Tobin says, trying to shrug off the uneasy feeling was forming at her chest. 

  
  


Tobin felt like their neighborhood relationship has fostered into a comfortable friendship where they can tell each other anything. Really they have. After many rounds of would you rather,  Tobin knows that if Christen had to choose between living without movies or living without music, she would choose the former while Christen knows that Tobin would rather buy jerseys than buy furniture), but apparently she was wrong.

-

-

-

Christen paces on the driveway. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was making Tobin’s head spin just watching her from the hood of her car.

 

“Alright let’s go inside,” Christen says, taking a deep breath and walking towards the door. 

 

_ Finally _ , Tobin mouths as she dutifully follows her, her eyes on her phone so she doesn’t see Christen stop in her tracks until she walks into her. 

 

“On second thought, maybe I should reschedule this rescheduled?” Christen says as she turns right back around. 

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Tobin says as she grabs Christen by the elbow steering her up the circular driveway. “We’ve been out here for 30 minutes, Press. Time to face the music.”

 

“B-b-but,” Christen stutters, looking up at Tobin helplessly. “Please don’t make me do this.”

 

“I came here for my free lunch and we’re going to get my free lunch,” Tobin says as they stop in front of the door. Tobin gestures for her to start knocking. “C’mon. You’re going to be happy to get this out of the way.”

 

Christen cranes her neck around Tobin, trying to figure out if she can book it down the driveway and how long it would take for Tobin to run after her.

 

“Dude, no,” Tobin laughs. “Did you forget that I’m a professional athlete? I can definitely catch you before you even reach the car.”

 

“Fine,” Christen balks. She raises her fist to knock on the door before she turns to Tobin again. “What if I buy you that thing from that place with the green fish?” 

 

Tobin furrows her brow. “Are you talking about that Mediterranean place near that dry cleaning place?”

 

Christen nods. “Yes! That one!”

 

“Hard bargain, Press, but your sister promised me cupcakes,” Tobin says as she raises her fist and knocks for her. 

 

“Really?” Christen asks incredulously. “Cupcakes over our friendship?”

 

“You still haven’t paid me for the plumber that had to clean up my showerhead for putting that chicken thing in there,” Tobin reminds her,  giving her a bright smile. 

 

Before Christen can make a witty retort, the door opens, increasing the butterflies in Christen’s stomach. Tobin finds it funny that Christen was probably more nervous at seeing her parents than Tobin were. Channing was standing on the other side with a bright smile seeing her sister and Tobin. 

 

“You guys made it!” Channing says as Christen and Tobin enter. She gathers their coat and puts it into the closet nearest to the door. 

 

“Tobin wouldn’t let me miss it,” Christen mumbles, her eyes were roaming around the living room. 

 

“What was that, Chris?” Channing asks over her shoulder. 

 

“Nothing,” Christen says as she follows her sister, her head was on a swivel as she looks around, trying to take everything in. 

 

The furniture was still the same, but they've got the walls a nice, plain beige and changed the floor to hardwood. Christen sees the photos lined up against the wall, a sense of relief filling her as she notices the pictures including her, were still up.  _ That has to be a good sign.  _

 

As they got closer to the backyard, Christen’s palms start to dampen, her heart thumps harder against her chest and her breaths start to come out in short little bursts at the notion of actually seeing her parents for the first time in three years. 

 

Tobin glances over to Christen, seeing a change in her demeanor. She reaches over and clasps her hands, tugging at it so that she can get Christen’s attention. When she sees Christen’s apprehension etched on her face, she squeezes her hand, and mouths,  _ You got this.  _

 

Christen nods, her grip tightening on Tobin’s hand. She steels her face, reminding Tobin of her own game face.  _ I got this. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't take leaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so this is a short chapter but I felt like I ended it in the right place.

“Uh, hi,” Christen says lamely, waving awkwardly. She shifts her weight from one foot to another as her parents gaze at her, their eyes wide, never leaving her face as if they were memorizing each detail. Christen’s grip infinitesimally tightens on Tobin’s unconsciously.

 

Tobin stands a step behind her, watching the reunion unfold. She didn’t feel awkward as she thought she would’ve been intruding on such a private moment. She chalks it up to the fact that she desperately wants this to go well for Christen.

 

Christen’s mother seem to snap out of it and she stands up. “Christen, hi,” she says as she strides forward so fast that Christen stepped back right into Tobin’s front.

 

Tobin grabs her hip, steadying her, their entwined hands never unclasping. The pad of her thumb, grazes Christen’s grip, hoping that it would calm Christen. She can practically feel the tension in Christen’s body seep out of her. “You’re good,” Tobin whispers, her breath tickling her ear.

 

Christen’s mother looks hurt at the slight rejection but plasters a welcoming smile that Tobin recognizes as the same one she uses when she’s dealing with young fans. “Come sit,” she says as she turns back to the table. Tobin sees her subtly wiping something on her face. “I made your favorite!”

 

She helps Christen into her chair as Christen’s father stands by the table, watching their interaction, his eyes glassy with tears.

 

They sit in silence, exchanging tight-lipped smiles.

 

“This looks delicious, Mrs. Press,” Tobin offers and both parents eyes jerk to her as if that was the first time they saw her.

 

“Thank you, uh-”

 

“Sorry,” Christen apologizes. “This is my friend Tobin Heath.”

 

Christen’s mom smiles, a genuine one. Tobin can see where Christen gets her beautiful features from. “Thank you, Tobin.”

 

“You’re welcome. I hear it’s Christen’s favorite? I can definitely see why,” Tobin says, effectively breaking the ice as Christen’s mom starts talking about the dish and the history behind it.

 

The remaining tension in Christen’s shoulder releases as she listens to the conversation flow. She sits back against the chair, oblivious to their entwined hands.

-

-

-

Tobin nudges Christen’s shoulder with hers. “Hey, dude, I have to go to the bathroom.”

 

“There should be one by the kitchen,” Christen says. She stands up, turning to the other occupants of the table. “I’m just gonna show her where the bathroom is.”

 

Channing stands up briskly, surprising everyone. She almost trips trying to get to the other side of the table where Tobin and Christen are. “Here, I’ll show you the bathroom, Tobin.” She leads Christen back to her chair, gesturing for her to sit down. “Sit down and talk.”

 

“Oh.” Christen sits down and watches as they leave, the tension returning to her body now that her lifeline was gone. When she can no longer see Tobin’s honey-colored hair, she turns back to her parents. Their faces reflect back the hesitancy, fear, and the uncertainty that Christen was feeling.

 

Her mother smiles warmly at her, the corner of her eyes wrinkling. “Thank you, Christen, for coming here.”

 

“Thank Heath,” Christen says. Then adds a little teasingly, “She wouldn’t let me run out.”

 

“So, uh, is Tobin your girlfriend?” Her mother asks.

 

“No!” Christen says it too quickly and too loudly that her parents’ eyebrow raises at the volume. Christen picks at the loose thread on her sweater. “We’re just friends. She’s my neighbor.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry for assuming,” Her mother says. “You guys just seem to gravitate one another. It reminded me of your father and me.”

 

“No...we’re just friends,” Christen says. Despite her insistence, she can feel her cheeks redden. “We just met like six months ago.” Christen laughs as she remembers their first few months and the looks her parents gave her, made her laugh harder. “Just we didn’t really get along the first couple of months.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t tell me you didn’t torture her,” Her mother tutts, she lights up at a memory. “You and Tyler used to play the weirdest pranks on Channing.”

 

“Yeah like the one where they convinced me that they were aliens that replaced my real sisters,” Channing scoffs as she and Tobin return from the bathroom.

 

Christen’s eyes met Tobin’s worried ones. Christen smiles at her, trying to assure her that she was fine. Tobin’s hand dropped to Christen’s shoulder, rubbing it once before she sat back down in her seat.

 

“It’s not my fault you were gullible as a child,” Christen defends as she takes a sip of her drink. “I remember Tyler would just give you this one look-”

 

“The one where I thought she was going to kill me because she killed the real Tyler look!’ Channing says in defense, throwing her hands in the air. “It went on until I was like in the fifth grade.”

 

“Those were the days,” Christen says. “We used to be able to get you to do everything.”

 

“When did you figure out they were lying about being aliens?” Tobin asks. Christen can see that her eyes were twinkling with amusement at the stories they were telling.

 

“When Tyler broke her arm,” Channing says, smiling at the memory. ‘I went up to her doctor and asked if my sister was an alien.”

 

Tobin can see Christen’s face light up at the recognition of the memory as well as she starts giggling. “That’s why you got a little more ballsy!” Her chuckles trail off as she looks down at her drink to hide the tears that form in the corner of her eyes. “Tyler was always the instigator. She had the best pranks.”

 

Tobin can feel the air change. Tension didn’t rise, but Tobin can feel their sadness circulating among them at the mention of, who Tobin guesses is, the deceased sister that Kelley inadvertently mentioned. Her mother did always tell her she had a big heart.

 

Christen’s parents look down as well, her dad reaches over and clasps her mother’s hand, squeezing it. Channing looks over in the distant horizon where the water meets the sky, her hand curling into a fist as she tries to prevent her eyes from welling up with tears.

 

“Christen,” Her father says, speaking up for the first time since Christen had walked through the door.

 

Christen looks up and Tobin can see that there were no tears in her eyes, in contrast to her sister and parents, whose eyes were glazed over with tears.

 

“Monkey,” He utters, voice still as soft.

 

Christen swallows heavily at the mention of her childhood nickname. Her hand disappears under the table as she grips Tobin’s hand again.

 

“We’re sorry.” His voice was sincere and apologetic, his eyes filled with regret. “We were so focused on trying to make the pain go away for us that we neglected you and Channing.”

 

Christen looks down at the table as Tobin’s thumb skims her hand. “You made it seem like it was my fault,” she whispers, making Tobin gasp faintly and clench her fingers harder.  

Her mother gasps and shoots out of her chair, tears streaming down her face as she moves to the other side of the table. She kneels in front of Christen. “It’s not your fault and we have never ever blamed you, sweetheart,” she says, her voice firm and resolute. “Your father and I are so sorry that we made you feel that way. What happened was an accident, a cruel, _cruel_ accident that was not in any way your fault.”

 

“You don’t hate that I’m alive and Tyler isn’t?” Christen sniffles, her eyes shining with tears.

 

“Never, sweetheart,” Her father says. Tobin didn’t even notice that Christen’s father had stood up was now behind his wife and daughter. “Your mother and I are so so so sorry and we can apologize a million times but we can never erase how you felt.”

 

Tobin feels uncomfortable being in the middle of what obviously a private family matter, but she refuses to leave Christen, especially since she was still gripping her hand so tightly that she won’t be surprised if there were bruises there tomorrow. But when Channing stands up and moves to where her family is clustered around Christen and Christen finally lets go of Tobin’s hand, she uses that to slip away from the Press family to give them their privacy.

 

Tobin goes into the kitchen and parks herself where she can still see them in case Christen wanted to get out of there. When she sees that they seem to be in good spirits, Christen still hasn’t let them hug her, but she doesn’t look tense, Tobin turns away and turns to look around the kitchen.

 

She yelps, startled when she sees two brown dogs, one with a black snout, staring curiously up at her, their heads tilted to the side. “Hi, babies,” she coos as she kneels so that she can pet them.

 

Their tail thumps against the floor as Tobin keeps petting them, cooing at how good dogs they are.

 

“I see you’ve met Morena and Khaleesi.”

 

Tobin looks over her shoulder to see Christen leaning against the counter, eyes red but the smile on her face eases the unfamiliar tightening in Tobin’s chest whenever Christen looks down (Tobin calls it constipation. Kelley disagrees).

"Yeah look at them. They're so well-behaved compared to you," Tobin jokes.

 

Christen's eyes narrow at her joke. "Hey watch it." She kneels next to Tobin so she can pet her babies that she hasn't seen in three years. “Do you still want to finish lunch?” 

 

Tobin turns to her, her eyes were earnest and serious, a contrast to the usual goofball that Christen has come to know. Right now as one of her best friends (even though Christen won’t admit it), her top priority is Christen’s well being.  “Do _you_ want to finish lunch?”

 

“I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed actually,” Christen admits, almost shyly, her eyes refusing to meet Tobin’s.

 

“Then no, I don’t want to finish my lunch,” Tobin says as she stands up. She holds out a hand to Christen, who without hesitation grabs it. Tobin pulls her up and they walk towards the backyard, the dogs trotting behind them dutifully. “Let’s go say goodbye to your parentals.”

 

They say goodbye to Christen’s parents, planning another lunch or some kind of get together soon to try to bridge the 3 years that they missed in each other’s life. Tobin was surprised when they included her in the plans, she wanted to say no, but one look at Christen’s desperate green eyes, had her nodding in agreement.

 

Christen idly looks out the window, partly paying attention to the scenery outside and listening to Tobin sing underneath her breath. Her shoulders were no longer stiff from the tension it was holding this morning at the thought of seeing her parents; instead, her heart felt light and free. For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful for the future of her relationship with her parents.

 

“Yo, Press.” Tobin appears in front of the passenger door, confused. “I’ve been calling your name for like two minutes now.”

 

“Sorry, distracted,” Christen says as she opens the car door. When she steps outside, she realized that they’re not in the parking lot. “Uh, did you just kidnap me?”

 

“First of all, you’re not a kid, so it’s not kidnapping,” Tobin says as she slings a backpack on her back. “Second, I think you can use a little relaxing time after that overwhelming lunch.”

 

“We live by the beach we could be surfing right now,” Christen points out. “That’s relaxing.”

 

“Trust me, this is way better,” Tobin says as she unhooks the white gate that was surrounded by shrubbery as tall as eight or nine feet high.

 

“Where are we?” Christen asks. “You’re not going to torture me right?”

 

“A little trust, please,” Tobin says as she gestures for Christen to go first. When she did, Tobin locks the door behind them. “Besides if I’m going to torture you, it’s going to be in my bedroom.”

 

_THWACK!_

 

“Ow, Press, really?” Tobin rubs the back of her head, wincing.

 

Christen just laughs in response as she follows Tobin. On each side of them, were just shrubbery and trees both going towards the horizon and up towards the sun. They seem to be following a predetermined path as the shrubs were nicely maintained and not at all haggard and wild. It reminds Christen of Alice in Wonderland. The place almost looked ethereal. “Where are we?” she asks again.

 

“Trust me,” Tobin says again, giving her a small smile.

 

Christen sighs but nods as she keeps following her. Sometimes it amazed her how fast their friendship grew. They’ve only known each other for 6 months, but Christen swears it’s at least ten years. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize that she Tobin had stopped walking and she ended up walking straight into the plants.

 

She yelps as she jumps back as Tobin was laughing, clutching her stomach. “Very funny,” she scoffs.

 

Tobin holds up a blindfold. “Turn around.”

 

“Kinky, Heath,” Christen teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

 

“Don’t tempt me,” Tobin jokes as she carefully puts the blindfold over Christen’s eyes.

 

Christen feels her trail a finger down her arm, leaving it warm in its wake before Tobin grasps her hand and tugs her. She and Tobin were giggling as Tobin tried to help her navigate amidst the overgrown roots and threats of being punched. They stop and Christen wiggles her toes to try to find out what ground they were standing on through her shoes. She squeaks when she feels Tobin grasp her hips and for a second she was dangling in the air before she felt the ground again.

 

Her eyes widen behind the blindfold when she hears a hissing sound right above her. “Is there a snake here?!” She half-yells, about to jump when she feels a hand on her arm to stop her.

 

Tobin laughs and Christen realizes she was closer than she realized. She wanted to take a step back, but Tobin’s hand keeps her tethered to her spot. “Don’t Press, or you’ll fall off.”

 

“Fall off what?” Christen asks, confused. As far as she was concerned they were on the ground. There was no elevation change when they were walking. She raises a hand to untie the blindfold, but Tobin’s hand was already there untying it.

 

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights,” Tobin whispers just as her blindfold comes off.

 

The first thing Christen notices is that they weren’t on the ground anymore as all she can see the blue sky around them. The second thing she noticed was that the big, bulbous colorful balloon over their heads and the fire hissing as it blows. She feels like they were floating.

 

“Are we in a hot-air balloon?” Christen asks. Tobin can hear the incredulity in her voice.

 

“No, Press, we’re getting carried through the air by a dinosaur,” Tobin says and Christen rolls her eyes, playfully hitting her on the side. Tobin jumps to the side a bit. “Hey don’t hit the pilot.”

 

“I can’t believe you know how to fly this thing,” Christen comments.

 

Tobin shrugs. “Something my brother and I did for fun. You know something to bond over because he was a sore loser when I would beat him 1v1.” She gestures to the balloon. “My mom suggested this. We thought it was dorky at first, but-” she looks over to Christen before she motions to the view in front of them. “When you’re up here, it feels like nothing can get you down.” She pauses then adds. “Except like gravity and if you run out of gas.”

 

“This is amazing,” Christen breathes as she looks down at the expansive view below and in front of her. They weren’t too high up, she’s climbed mountains that were higher. But the absence of rock-solid earth and dirt beneath her feet made her feel like she was floating higher than she’s ever been. High enough that her problems that she left on earth can’t be reached.

 

“Breathe in deeply for me,” Tobin instructs.

 

Christen looks at her weirdly, her eyebrow raised at the request.

 

Tobin laughs. “What did I say, Press? Trust me.”

 

Christen rolls her eyes and humors her. She closes her eyes and breathes in, feeling her chest expand and her lungs fill in with the crisp air.

 

Tobin watches her closely. She can see the way Christen’s face softens when she breathes in as if the air up above cleansed the problems and dilemmas that’s been weighing her down was released.

 

When Christen opened her green eyes, Tobin just about fell to her knees. Tobin needs glasses because everything looks blurry without them, but Tobin wasn’t blind. She knows that Christen was gorgeous. 

 

The unusual color of her eyes that change according to her mood, that helps Tobin know whether she should give her ice cream or just to shut up as anything she’ll say will just make it worse, were simply ethereal. 

 

Or the way that she smiles at her when she’s said something dumb funny that had Tobin stumbling over her words for a good minute. 

 

Or when she was always there for Tobin despite their rocky start with a meal at the ready or a sound advice. 

 

Or when she worries over Mrs. Resnick every day, forcing Tobin and her to go to her apartment at least once a week to have dinner with her to make sure her surrogate grandmother does not feel alone.

 

She was beautiful, inside and out. That was indisputable. So she took a leap.

 

Tobin didn’t really even realize that she was moving closer to her until she pressed her lips against hers like some awkward teenage boy. And like some awkward teenage boy, she realized too late that Christen was not kissing her back. 

 

Tobin pulls back, horrified. Her eyes were wide and a blush was quickly appearing on her cheeks as she watches Christen eyes slowly open again, confused.

 

“Why did you do that?” Christen whispers, her hand going up to her lips.

 

“I don’t know,” Tobin says, mortified, her eyes are still wide with shock at what she’d done.

 

“Heath-”

 

Tobin shakes her head, turning away from Christen to hide the tears that prick the back of her eyes. She grabs the brake trying to get them down as quickly and safely as she could. Thankfully there were no winds that would impede their quick descent.

 

“Heath-”

 

Tobin was lost in her head, scolding herself at what just transpired. Her jaw was straining at how hard she's clenching it. She should've known by now that she shouldn’t be assuming people’s sexuality. She had them down in record time, Tobin still refusing to meet Christen’s eyes, too humiliated at being rejected.

 

Everything else was a blur to Tobin, refusing to dwell on it or even think about it until she's alone. She knows if she heard her say the actual words then she wouldn't be able to keep the tears at bay. She doesn’t remember putting away the equipment, talking too fast about the different parts of the hot air balloon as if Christen cares. 

 

She doesn't recall driving them back to their house, the volume of the music too loud as she screams along to the radio so that Christen couldn't get a word edgewise. 

 

She doesn’t remember saying goodbye, or if she ever said goodbye to Christen. She's pretty sure she just mumbled a quick goodbye and shut the door in her face before Christen can say anything. Like a coward that she is, she locked her car door from her living room, peering as Christen was still standing there, confused.

 

But in the quietness of her house, where it was just her thoughts and the hum of the AC,  the sting of rejection that was sitting beneath her skin returns and she couldn't hold back the rivulets of tears. 

-

-

-

_ What the fuck? _

 

Christen was left gaping as Tobin all but runs into her apartment. She felt a little bit offended that the first thing Tobin did is to run away from her but then again she did ask why she was doing it. She supposes that can be misconstrued as a rejection. 

 

She sighs and looks towards Tobin’s door, debating on whether or not she should go in there and talk to her. Tobin’s car beeps as the doors locked and Christen’s head whips towards the window just to see the curtains move. 

 

_ That’s it.  _

 

She takes a deep breath and strides up to the door, confidence exuding, ready to tear Tobin a new one for being so weird. She furls her hand into a fist ready to strike the door as loud as she can. But right as she hit it, something in her made her stop. Maybe it’s better if she let’s Tobin calm down, they can have a rational conversation about this. She lowers her hand sighs and goes into her own house, more confused and anxious that she started the day with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that!


	8. eight

Christen sighs as she looks over Tobin’s door to see if she can perceive any small movement that’s happening inside the apartment. Any movement at all. Christen was desperate to talk to her. It’s been a week since the infamous Kissgate (that she’s dubbed in her mind) and they’ve had no contact at all. She hasn’t even seen Tobin enter or leave her apartment. It was like she was a ghost. It came to a point that Christen was starting to doubt if she was real at all. 

 

The night when they came back from lunch, Christen cooked the usual amount of food and waited for Tobin to come by but she never did. The only text that she sent that night about dinner went unseen and unanswered. Christen ate alone that night, the squash tasting bitter in her mouth and the food sitting heavy in her stomach.

 

She misses Tobin. And if you ask her this anytime before this, then she would vehemently deny it. But she does. She misses her so much.

 

Much more than she wanted to admit.

 

She misses her stupid, corny jokes about anything and everything or the way she can never sit still and was always picking up stuff off of Christen’s bookshelves and placing them in another part of the house when she gets bored with it. It drove Christen crazy. 

 

She misses Tobin’s face. Just her face. The way her brows furrow when she’s confused. That little smirk when she knows that she just beat Christen at something. And her smile. Her easy-going smile that whenever Christen sees it, she knows everything is alright in the world. 

 

Most of all, she just misses her presence. Those quiet times where they’re just in her living room. Usually, she would be working while Tobin would napping or if not napping she’s playing with Fred, usually cuddling with her or annoying the shit out of her. Those were her favorite moments.

 

She’d give just about anything to have those moments back. 

 

Her phone chimes, making her heart quicken as she looks down. She’s been trying to send her texts asking if she was okay or little jokes that Christen knows she would like. But still nothing. She was disappointed that Tobin’s name wasn’t the one flashing across it right now. 

 

A loud car horn blares and she looks up to see JJ’s white car pulling up. She puts her phone away and looks at Tobin’s door again one last time as if willing it to open and for Tobin to step out, her signature all-teeth smile with a joke on her lips. When the door remained closed, she sighs and slips into Julie’s car, greeting her friend as cheerful as she can. 

 

Tobin stands on the other side of the door watching Christen through the peephole like some weirdo. When the car pulls away, Tobin sighs in relief before she opens the door and runs to her car despite seeing Christen leave in a car. 

-

-

-

Tobin scarfs down her food, groaning at the taste. It was so good. She really misses homecoming. When there was only a third of her plate left, she looks up to see Kelley, Allie, and Alex gaping at her. 

 

“Sorry, I just really missed home cooked meals,” Tobin apologizes. 

 

“It’s mac and cheese,” Alex points out. 

 

“From a box,” Allie adds, exchanging a worried look with Alex. “Not even the good kind.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You’re allocated, at least take us out to Chick-Fil-A,” Allie mumbles as she pokes at the mac and cheese.

 

“What happened to Christen?” Kelley asks. “You missed two group dinners because she needed help with her plumbing?”

 

Allie’s eyebrows raise while Alex cackles, “Did she tell you that her pipes were really wet and they were bursting?” 

 

Tobin hits Allie, who was the only one she can reach, trying to make her stop laughing. “It wasn’t like that, guys! Stop it!” Tobin turns to Kelley. “See, look what you’ve done!”

 

“Guys stop...obviously a wet pipe is a good pipe. It’s was probably because her pipes were leaking.”

 

The three burst out laughing while Tobin covers her face in exasperation. 

 

“Not funny!” Tobin groans.

 

They teased her relentlessly, moving on from plumbing jokes to electrician jokes to computer technician jokes until finally Tobin couldn’t take it anymore and she takes a handful of mac and cheese and throws it right at Kelley’s face. 

 

Kelley gasps as mac and cheese slides down the side of her face. 

 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Tobin says as she smiles gleefully at Alex and Kelley.

 

“Are you really sorry, Toby?” Kelley asks as she picks up her spoon, threateningly.

 

“Kelley, don’t you dare-” A spoonful of mac and cheese lands right on Alex’s head and she stares at Alex in shock. “That’s it!” Alex shrieks as she grabs the food. 

 

“You should’ve just taken us to Chick-Fil-A!” Allie shrieks as she joins in, upturning her bowl on the table. 

 

Soon food was flying from every corner of the table. Tobin manages to crouch by the stove, keeping the pot of mac and cheese as ammunition. It seemed to go on forever, the yellow gooey macaroni coating the walls and Alex’s furniture. Tobin didn’t care she was just letting out her frustration as she keeps pelting whoever she can see. 

 

She leans down and was about to grab more mac and cheese only to come up empty-handed. She looks down at the pot to see that she’s thrown everything. She looks up to see a white napkin waving in the air, she assumes, by Alex. 

 

“You and you, clean this up,” Alex says, pointing at Kelley and Tobin when they all stood up and away from their hiding spots after they’ve seen all white napkins waving in surrender. “Allie and I are going to take a shower.”

 

Kelley and Tobin go downstairs to grab some buckets and cleaning supplies. Tobin slides into the bucket going from the walls to the tables while Kelley worked on the floors.

 

“Why do we have our group dinners in Alex’s house?” Tobin wonders aloud.

 

“Because she has a bombass kitchen,” Kelley replies.

 

“But we’re the worst cooks,” Tobin says as she continues to clean the mac and cheese. “Last week Allie made fried chicken that was so raw in the middle we had to go to In-N-Out. You just made mac and cheese.”

 

“Hey! That mac and cheese was the bomb alright? You heathens just didn’t get it.”

 

“It was a box of Kraft!”

 

“Like I said! Heathens!” Kelley harrumphs as they get back to cleaning.

 

“Hey, Kelley?” Tobin asks again after a pause.

 

“No, Tobin. Trader Joe’s don’t have the best mac and cheese,” Kelley says, both patiently and exasperatedly. (Really she knows Trader Joe’s has one of the best mac and cheese, but she can’t have Tobin right all the time). 

 

“Not that,” Tobin says, dismissing her earlier claim. “Is Christen straight?”

 

Kelley scoffs then guffaws as she looks up to Tobin who had stopped cleaning and was just standing there, waiting expectedly. She raises her eyebrows suggestively at Tobin. “Ah, so you have a crush on Christen?”

 

Tobin scoffs, not wanting to divulge that she got rejected. “No!” She paused before she asks again. “So is she?”

 

Kelley scoffs. “No, dude. Christen is so gay. At one point I’m pretty sure she bedded more women than I did.”

 

“What are you? In the 1800s, no one says bedded,” Alex says as she comes in the kitchen dressed in some sweats and a tank top. “C’mon, go get changed, we’re gonna go eat somewhere we have to behave like adults.”

 

Tobin drops her sponge in the bucket before she goes upstairs to Alex’s room to swipe some clothing from her. She just grabs a random Nike item, her mind still processing the fact that Christen was not straight, but had rejected her. 

 

Tobin could arrive at just one conclusion that Christen didn’t want her like how she wants her. It hurts to come to that realization. She always thought she was a pretty charming person, the countless of girls that threw themselves at her whenever they go to a bar proved that. 

 

She puts her face in her hands, trying to think away the thoughts coursing through her brain. Christen doesn’t want her, but she doesn’t want to lose her either. She knows that seeing her face after such a blatant rejection would sting a lot and she doesn’t know if this sharp pain in her heart will ever go away if she constantly sees her.

 

“Hey, Harry, you ready?” She hears Allie calls from downstairs. 

 

“Yeah!” Tobin yells back, the frustration evident in her voice. When she comes downstairs, she can see that everyone was staring at her worriedly. 

 

“Everything okay?” Kelley asks. “You sounded pretty weird up there.”

 

“Yeah.” Tobin nods as she goes straight to the door, not wanting to linger in her mind any longer than she has to. “Let’s just go eat.”

-

-

-

“Why are you sad, Toby?” Rose asks as she passes the ball to Tobin. 

 

Tobin looks at her surprised that she was able to pick up on it. She tried to be upbeat and helpful with her group of six girls that lived in their neighborhood that she often takes out to the beach and play soccer with. She loved this time as she can focus on her two favorite things, soccer and girls (but not like that since they’re ten and she’s not about that life and that’s just gross). 

 

All she had to worry about really is making sure Rose and Lindsey don’t kill each other, Sam doesn’t get a concussion, Moe doesn’t injure herself,  they don’t make Mal cry, and Emily behaves herself. Right now that is much less of a handful than her brain currently is.

 

Emily nudges Rose. “You’re not supposed to ask her like that!”

 

“Well, how am I supposed to ask her?” Rose says to Mal and Emily. “She looks so sad.”

 

“You’re supposed to be subtle!” Emily says. “Gentle!”

 

“Yeah but now we asked her so now we just wait for her answer,” Rose says before all three turn back to Tobin, waiting for her answer.

 

Tobin was standing back just watching them bicker in amusement. Though she feels a bit embarrassed that five ten-year-olds managed to spot what she was feeling. She thought she was hiding it pretty well.

 

“I’m not sad,” Tobin defends as she kicks the ball into her arms. “Do you guys want me to coach you or are we here to talk about my love life?”

 

“Well,” Emily shrugs. “You can’t really coach us if you’re distracted.”

 

“Yeah, we’re not paying you to waste our time!” Moe adds. 

 

“You don’t pay me at all!” Tobin laughs.

 

“Is it because of Christen?” Sam asks.

 

Tobin jumps when Sam speaks. Sometimes she forgets that she was there, though she was a little taller than the rest of the girls, she was also the quietest one. She was easy to overlook unless she was on the ball then she becomes a little beast.

 

She laughs nervously, her hand coming up to behind her neck as she scratches it. “Press and I are fine, munchkins.”

 

Emily’s eyes narrow and Tobin wants to groan, knowing that she latched on to something and she’s not going to let go of it. Emily was the thorn in Tobin’s side, but she wouldn’t have any other way. “Why isn’t she here then? She promised us brownies last time!” 

 

“And she’ll give it to you,” Tobin says. “She was just busy.”

 

“No she wasn’t,” Moe says, looking up at her, unblinking as if accusing her of something. “She says you didn’t want to talk to her.”

 

“Are you guys fighting?” Mal asks, her voice quiet and horrified as if that was the worst thing that can happen to them right now.

 

The other girls gasps, panicked, setting off a barrage of questions that Tobin had trouble keeping up with.

 

“No!”

 

“Don’t fight!”

 

“Are you guys getting a divorce?”

 

“Is Christen not going to be our team mom anymore?”

 

“You guys can’t get a team divorce! You're our team parents!”

 

“Woahwoahwoah. We’re not getting a divorce!” Tobin counters, making the rest of them sigh in relief. She shakes her head, “We’re not even together guys. We’re just friends.”

 

The girls look thoroughly confused at that statement, exchanging bewildered looks with each other.

 

“But you guys spend all of your time with each other like my mom and dad,” Emily points out. 

 

“And you guys are always laughing together.”

 

“And you guys make heart eyes at each other!”

 

“Yeah, you love each other! We can tell!” Rose says.

 

“We’re just friends,” Tobin insists.

 

“You guys are not even girlfriend-girlfriend?” Mal asks. 

 

Tobin shakes her head and answers their question with a simple, “No.”

 

“Well why not?” Emily asks, well more demanded. 

 

“Yeah, why not?” Lindsey chimes in and soon there was a chorus of five ten-year-old girls asking why her and Christen are not in a relationship more than a friendship. 

 

“She doesn’t want to!” Tobin screams at them, quieting them all at once. The five girls look up at her with wide terrified eyes, not used to a yelling Tobin. She’s usually more of a go with the flow kind of gal that usually just quiets them down with gestures rather than raising her voice.

 

She was about to apologize when someone pipes up, “Did you ask her?”

 

“No, I kissed her,” Tobin says. “But she didn’t kiss me back.”

 

“Did you ask her why she didn’t kiss you back?” Mal asks as if that was obvious next step.

 

“No,” Tobin says slowly. 

 

“Maybe it’s because she was surprised,” Rose says. “If a boy planted one on me, I think I would punch him first because I would be surprised.”

 

“Rose you don’t even know how to punch,” Lindsey says, mockingly. 

 

“Oh yeah, wanna bet?” Rose asks, standing up and holding up her tiny fist, ready to throw down.

 

“Alright you two no fighting,” Tobin says, grabbing Rose by her leg to tug her down. 

 

“Yeah we have a bigger problem,” Mal says. “Our team moms might be getting a divorce.”

 

“For the last time, Christen and I are not getting divorced. I’m just helping you guys hone your soccer skills,” Tobin says. 

 

“And we’re helping you hone your woman skills,” Emily says, nodding her head. 

 

“You’re ten years old, what do you know about woman skills?” Tobin says, shaking her head, amused. 

 

“Toby, Toby, Toby,” Emily says shaking her head as if exasperated, mimicking her. “Well I know I wouldn’t be running away if a pretty girl didn’t kiss me back. I would ask her why she didn’t kiss me back.” Emily narrows her eyes at Tobin as if challenging her.

 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you ask her?” 

 

“How will you know she didn’t like you if didn’t ask her?” Sam points out. 

 

Tobin sighs and about to tell the little girls the intricacies of adult relationships. It was at the tip of her tongue when she realizes Sam was right (well all of them really). She was so overwhelmingly embarrassed during the aftermath of the kiss, so lost in her own that she didn’t even think of talking to Christen. She just wanted to get away from the situation as possible and wallow in her bed. 

 

“Hey look there’s Christen!” Rose says, standing up and pointing in the parking lot where sure enough Christen was coming out of someone’s car. 

 

Tobin’s heart drops when a man steps out of the same car. He goes around to where Christen is and blocks her view of Christen. Tobin’s hands clench into fists at her side as she watches them talking. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. Her heart drops.

 

To Tobin what happened next feels like it was in slow motion.

 

He leans down and whispers something in Christen’s ear before he kisses her on the cheek. Even from where they are (and they’re good distance away), Tobin can see Christen’s blush. If her heart can drop any further, it’ll probably be in hell by now. Just like how she feels like in hell right now. 

 

“Hey, Christen is coming over here,” Mal says, waving her hands excitedly at Christen. She turns to the other girls.  “We can ask her now!”

 

Tobin’s eyes widen. “Hey, guys you wanna go get ice cream? Ice cream sounds good about now right?” 

 

“Yeah! Let’s take Christen with us!” Mal says and before Tobin can stop her, Mal runs to Christen, meeting her right before she entered the sandy area of the beach. She 

 

When Christen nods, Tobin feels relief and panic hit her all at once and she had to bury her feet in the sand to prevent herself from running away. They start walking towards her and her brain starts screaming for her to run away. Tobin turns around, telling her brain to shut up since it was trying to convince her to run away. 

 

When she turns back around, Christen was standing in front of her, looking as radiant as ever, her green eyes were wary but they still held the same spark that appears whenever Tobin was around. The girls were crowded around her telling her about their day, but her eyes never left Tobin. 

 

“See? Heart eyes!” Rose yells, pointing between them.

 

“ROSE!” Lindsey says, nudging her. “Be quiet. You’re going to scare her away.”

 

“Who? Christen?”

 

“No, Tobin!” 

 

They all turn to Tobin, whose face was bright red at this point as she looks at anywhere but the group of girls and Christen in front of her. She ignores their whispers and gives them a bright smile, avoiding Christen’s eyes. “Alright! Let’s go get ice cream. My treat!”

 

“It better be your treat, Toby, we don’t have money,” Emily sasses. 

 

Tobin just swats her. “Just keep moving, Sonnett.”

 

“Aye aye, T. mom,” Emily says saluting her before catching up with Lindsey at the front of their small line.

 

Tobin stays back not wanting to air their issues around such impressionable children (impressionable, relentless annoying children) and making sure the five of them don’t suddenly run into traffic. 

 

Rose was leading their small line, singing and petting every dog she comes across off, often getting left behind as she wanted to give each dog a proper rub while Lindsey and Emily were egging each other on, parkouring on the planters and sidewalks. Christen had to occasionally call out to them to be careful, irking Mal to no end.  Mal was with Christen talking her ear off about her day. Sam and Moe stay behind just in front of Tobin just content to walk beside her. 

 

“She likes you, Toby,” Moe says as she falls into step with Tobin. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

 

Tobin smiles, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, Moe.” 

 

“You’re welcome,” Moe says before catching up to Sam. 

 

Tobin watches as Christen looks back as if searching for someone. When her eyes meet hers, there was a visible sign of relief. Tobin waves at her and Christen smiles shyly before she returns to her conversation with Mal. Moe turns back and gives her a thumbs up.

-

-

-

Christen was sitting in one of the swings at the park. Oddly enough they were the only occupants there. There were no mothers with their strollers on benches nor were there kids playing on the equipment. 

 

Christen smiles as she hears the seven of them screaming, yelling, and laughing, trying to run off any excess any energy they have. She watches the girls try to take the ball from Tobin. Tobin effortlessly weaves through the six girls time and time again, until the girls got tired out if and just tackles her so that Mal can get the ball. Tobin laughs as she brushes off the dirt and grass before she goes to sit next to Christen, letting the six girls have a small scrimmage without her. 

 

“Hey,” Tobin greets as she sits on the end of the bench. 

 

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” Christen asks, a little spitefully. When Tobin’s face fall because of her tone, she sighs. “Hey.”

 

They sit in silence for awhile just watching the girls play. 

 

“I’m sorry,” they both blurt out at the same time when their eyes meet again.

 

“Wait why are you sorry?” Tobin asks confused. She turns her body so that she can see her and they can now have a proper conversation. 

 

“Just how I reacted when you...uh...kissed me,” Christen says. “I even sent you text messages that you’ve ignored and a cake that said sorry for being a dick.”

 

“I have a new number,” Tobin explains as she holds up her new phone. It was indeed new as it didn’t have the crack that runs from one corner of the screen to the other. “I lost my phone and had to get a new number.You sent me a cake?”

 

“Yeah it said, I’m sorry for acting like a dick,” Christen says. “I got it delivered from that bakery by the Chinese place that gave you food poisoning.”

 

“Oh,” Tobin says, a light bulb going off in her head. A couple of days ago she got a cake delivered to her front door. It was delicious, but unnerving and hilarious to see it, mostly because of its design. She didn’t know who sent it and chalked it up to Kelley playing pranks on her. “Press, you didn’t send me a cake that said that. You sent me a dick cake.”

 

“A what?”

 

“You sent me a dick cake,” Tobin repeats. “You sent me a cake in the shape of a penis.” Tobin takes her phone out and scrolls through the pictures until she found it. She’s taken a picture of it because it was so bizarre. “Here look.” She hands the phone to Christen. 

 

Christen chokes as she stares at the picture, laughter bubbling out of her. “Oh my god. I swear I told them a cake that says _ I’m sorry for being a dick _ ,” Christen chokes out as she continues to laugh. “That’s it. That bakery is canceled. We are not going back there.”

 

“We?” Tobin asks, a bit of hope blooming deep in her.

 

Christen sighs and Tobin can feel the shift in tone. “We need to talk Tobin.”

 

Christen’s use of her first name jarred Tobin, making her more anxious and nervous about the talk that she knows they have to have. She finds it odd that this was the first time she’s heard Christen say her first name. 

 

“I know,” Tobin says. “I want to apologize for kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that and you shouldn’t apologize for how you reacted to my kiss. I was in the wrong. You were not. I acted like a dick. You didn’t.”

 

Christen nods, accepting her apology. “Yeah you shouldn’t just plant one on unsuspecting people,” Christen agrees. 

 

Tobin looks down at the concrete bench, bracing herself.  _ This is it _ , she is going to ask her if they can just be friends. She doesn’t feel anything for her and it’s better for the both of them if they just stayed friends. 

 

Even though it will hurt like when you accidentally peel off too much skin by your cuticle, Tobin is going to say yes to just being friends. She’d rather lose the prospect of a relationship if that meant she was losing Christen too. 

 

“I had a lot of time to think about our friendship mostly because you weren’t there to distract me,” Christen teases. Her eyes darken, becoming more serious. “I missed you. That one week was torture for me. I made too much food, I watched almost all of the DCOMs, I saw this man that was wearing an honest-to-god bird hat with a carcass of a real bird on top and all I could think about was telling you.”

 

Tobin’s eyes light up at her words. “Wait do you have a picture?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Christen says as she takes her phone out and goes through her pictures on the Photos app. She pulls up the picture and turns it so Tobin can see it. “Do you see the dead seagull on top? This should be illegal.” 

 

Tobin laughs as she looks at the photo. “That looks sick, dude. And nice camera angle.” 

 

“Yeah I had to do a hardcore stalking angle for that one,” Christen says, almost proudly as she puts it away. “Anyway back to the topic. So why did you kiss me? Then all but run away from me?”

 

“You didn’t kiss me back,” Tobin shrugs. “I thought that meant you didn’t want me.”

 

“You took me by surprise!” Christen screams exasperated and the frustration of not being able to talk to Tobin coming out. “We were looking at the view and next thing you know  _ BAM! _ Your lips were on mine and then you ran away!” 

 

“I mean I didn’t really run away since-”

 

“You locked your car door from the inside of your house,” Christen deadpans. “Like a coward.”

 

“Okay fine, I did run away,” Tobin says, not the least bit offended at being insulted. “But you didn’t kiss me back and you asked me why I did that. What was I supposed to think?” 

 

“That I was just asking a genuine question!” Christen explains. “I really wanted to know why you wanted to kiss me! And if you let me talk or if you would’ve answered my question. You would’ve known that I would not have said no.”

 

“No to what?” Tobin asks, her heart lurches, hope cautiously blooming in her heart. 

 

“I wouldn’t have said no to a date,” Christen finishes. 

 

“Really?” Tobin asks, a goofy grin appearing on her face. 

 

“Yes,” Christen says even more definitively due to Tobin’s reaction. “Tobin, you’re my best friend, but I can’t deny that there are-” Christen cringes, “ _ feelings _ that I wouldn’t mind exploring.”

 

“So you like me like me?” Tobin asks, still in that endearingly hopeful voice that had Christen’s heart stuttering. 

 

“What are we in elementary school?” Christen asks, but sighs and nods. “Yes, I like you like you.”

 

Tobin goofy grin gets larger and Christen’s heart is filled with happiness at seeing Tobin’s smile. She missed it so much. 

 

“But do not run away again,” Christen warns. “If we’re going to enter into a relationship like this, we gotta be mature adults and talk everything out, alright?”

 

“Definitely,” Tobin agrees too quickly, nodding her head. “We definitely have to do that.” Tobin looks at her shyly as if expecting something. 

 

“What?”

 

“Press,” Tobin starts. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

 

Christen smiles and reaches over, squeezing Tobin’s hand. “Yes, I will.” 

 

Tobin fist pumps, whooping. Her mind was already dreaming up ideas for their first date. She wanted it to be perfect as it was Christen and she deserves everything to be perfect.

 

Christen groans, remembering something. “Okay, but it can’t be next weekend.”

 

“Why not?” Tobin asks, genuinely curious and a little bit demanding.

 

“I agreed to go on a date that weekend,” Christen admits and sees Tobin’s face fall. She quickly adds, “It’s not a _date_ date. It’s a group date with my friend Julie and her husband and her husband’s college friend. They’re not setting me up and it’s just a friendly date, I swear, Heath.”

 

“So it’s not a romantic date?” Tobin asks for reassurance. 

 

“It's strictly platonic,” Christen assures her. “The only  _date_ dates that I will go on would be with you.”

 

Tobin breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, okay. I’m glad.”

 

Christen smiles. “So am I.” She looks down at their entwined hands, squeezes it one more time. “I can’t wait for our date.”

 

“Me too,” Tobin says as she swings their hands together. 

 

They look to their left when they hear the girls running over, sweaty and eyes bright as they stop in front of them. 

 

“So are you guys getting a divorce?” Emily asks, cheekily.

 

“Getting a what-now?” Christen asks at the same time, Tobin says, exasperated but the smile on her face belies it. “I told you for the last time we’re not together like that so we can’t get a divorce!”


	9. nine

Tobin lays across Christen’s bed watching her get ready for her date that’s not a date. She still hasn’t met Christen’s friend, Julie and she really wants to meet her to give her a piece of her mind for trying to set Christen up (even though Christen assures her it’s a strictly platonic date).

 

“Let’s play a game,” Tobin says as she throws the stuffed ball up into the air. Fred was also on Christen’s bed, standing over Tobin panting, his eyes on the ball that Tobin keeps taunting her with. 

 

“Can’t you let me get ready in peace?” Christen calls from the bathroom, where she was applying her makeup. 

 

“You know this isn’t like a real date you don’t have to go all out for it!” Tobin holds the toy above her stomach, taunting Fred with it. 

 

“Julie instructed me not to look like a gremlin,” Christen says. 

 

“Well you’re going to have a hard time with that,” Tobin says, jokingly. She feels something hard hit her in the arm and she looks down next to her to see a cap from a water bottle. 

 

“Remind me again why I’m going out with you next week?” Christen says, capping her lipstick and putting it away in her drawer. She puts her hair up in a ponytail and puts her ring on her finger. She enters her bedroom again, her heels making clicking noises against the hardwood floor.

 

Tobin sits up and she wished she hadn’t. Her breath catches in her throat and she precariously teeters against the edge of the bed at the sight of Christen.  Even when she’s not trying to look good, she looks good. 

 

She strikes a pose, giving Tobin a sultry smile. “How do I look?” 

 

Tobin pouts. “It’s so unfair that my date is next week!”

 

“This isn’t a date though,” Christen points out again. She glances at her clock, relieved that she at least has at least ten more minutes until Julie comes to pick her up. “I told you I’m just there for Julie, nothing more.” 

 

They hear Christen’s door open and Christen’s glare at Tobin had her looking anyone but her. “You didn’t lock it?” 

 

Tobin refuses to look at Christen as she stands up to make sure she didn’t accidentally cause a robbery. Fred was already downstairs, hopefully attacking the would-be robber. When she gets downstairs, she was right as Fred was attacking someone. Not with ferocious bites but with aggressive kisses that she knocked them on their back. 

 

“Stop Fred!” Emily pushes her away and stands up, petting her again. 

 

“Hey, Emily, what’s up?” Tobin asks. 

 

“Hi, Tobin, you left your door unlocked,” Emily says, waving. “Can we play today? I’m bored.” Her eyes stray to Tobin’s left and she whistles. “Woah, Christen, where are you going?” Her eyes widen in excitement as she looks between the two. “Oh my god! Are you guys finally going on a date?! I have to tell the others!” She turns to run, but Tobin grabs her by her hoodie. 

 

“Nope, you will not be saying anything to anyone,” Tobin says. “Yes Christen is going on a date-”

 

“Yes!” She fist pumps then raises her eyebrow at Tobin. “But c’mon Tobin why are you wearing joggers? You should at least be wearing nice jeans for a date and-” she tugs on her white shirt “-and a nice shirt? Christen deserves better than that!”

 

“Stop there, Sonnett,” Tobin says, putting a hand over her mouth, knowing she can go all day if not stopped. “Christen is not going on a date with me.”

 

Emily’s eyes swing to Christen, glaring. “Why don’t you date Tobin? She’s so cute and she needs your love!”

 

“EMILY!” Tobin screams slapping her hand over her mouth again. “You have such a big mouth.”

 

“Excuse me?” There was a knock on the open door and they turn to see their disabled-parking-stealing neighbor, wearing slacks and a button down. “Is Christen Press here?”

 

Tobin and Christen exchanged a look brimming with surprise (or in Tobin’s case smug). Christen gives the stink eye to Tobin as she mutters, “I’m going to kill Julie.”

 

Tobin holds out her hand. “Tobin. I live next to Christen’s.”

 

“Chad,” He says, making Christen mutter,  “Oh,c’mon!”.  He takes Tobin’s hand, gripping it harder than he should have. Tobin’s eyebrow raises but grips it tighter as well rolling her eyes. “I live around here too.”

 

“That’s cool,” Tobin says turning to Christen, giving her the smuggest of all smiles that Christen wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. “Did you hear that Christen?”

 

“And I’m Emily, their daughter,” Emily says inserting herself between Tobin and Chad. Christen facepalms herself why Tobin lets out a bark of a laugh.

 

“D-d-d-daughter?” Chad chokes as he looks between Emily, Tobin, and Christen eyes wide in surprise. Tobin can already see him trying to run. 

 

“Don’t listen to her,” Christen says as she steps down the rest of the steps. “Shall we go?”

 

“Have fun!” Tobin calls to them, knowing how much Christen must be dying inside. Christen flips her off as she closes the door to her own apartment, sticking out her tongue. “Oh very mature, Press!” 

 

“He even has a fuckboy name,” Emily mutters much to Tobin’s chagrin. “Can we play now?”

 

“Yeah, c’mon let’s take Fred out for a walk,” Tobin says as she grabs Fred’s leash.

-

-

-

Tobin should’ve known something was wrong when she hears the door unlock and she feels arms wrap around her waist and a head between her shoulder blades while she was washing the dishes. “I take it the date didn’t go well?”

 

“No it’s worse,” Christen mutters against her back as she fists the clothing right around her stomach.

 

“It was a good date?” Tobin says, horrified. She can feel her heart drop when Christen nods against her. 

 

Does that mean that their date was off? She promised it was strictly platonic, but that doesn’t mean that she could control those things she felt during that date. She lost her even before they even went out. 

 

“Press, you’re scaring me,” Tobin admits as she turns around. When she got face to face with Christen she can see her holding in a laugh and she rolls her eyes as she realizes what she was doing. “You’re not funny, Press.”

 

“Oh really? I always thought I was pretty good at pranks,” Christen says, a small gleam in her eye. “What’d you do today? And where’s my dog?”

 

As if summoning her, Fred walks in from the backyard holding driftwood in her mouth, she drops it at Tobin’s rug right next to her water bowl before lapping up the water. 

 

“Winifred!” Christen says when she sees her dog. 

 

Fred’s ears perk up before she runs full speed to her owner. The Golden Retriever tackles her human, giving her kisses as if she hasn’t seen her all day. 

 

“You really like making out with her, huh?” Tobin asks as she holds the ice cream carton in one hand and the spoons in the other. 

 

“You’re just jealous!” Christen teases before spotting the ice cream in her hands. Her eyes light up as she skips towards Tobin. She grabs one of the spoons and goes to sit on one of her wicker chairs. She tries to get comfortable against the hard grain but groans when she couldn’t. “Honestly, Heath are you ever going to get real furniture?”

 

Tobin shrugs. “I don’t know, if I wanna sit on a real couch I could just go to your place.” She plops down next to Christen and turns it to their favorite show at the moment, Brooklyn 99. 

 

“I’d probably change the locks soon,” Christen jokes as she leans towards Tobin to dig into the carton. 

 

Tobin lunges back, raising an eyebrow at her. “You joke that you’ll lock me out and now you want my ice cream? The nerve!” 

 

“C’mon, Heath,” Christen groans as she lunges again only for Tobin to pull it back at the last minute. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her. “You are so mean!”

 

Tobin rolls her eyes and made a show of slowly dipping her spoon in the carton. Just as she reached the top of the glorious ice cream, the carton tumbles from her grip and onto the floor. Good thing it was frozen as it just popped out of the carton and rolled on the floor. 

 

Tobin levels her a look. “Really, Press?”

 

“You weren’t sharing!” 

 

“Well now we’re both out of ice cream for Brooklyn 99 Flavors night,” Tobin sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. 

 

It was a small tradition that they’ve started when they’ve learned that the other loved the show as well. It was also one of the days where Christen was too lazy to make anything for dinner so Tobin had grabbed the only thing that was in her fridge, A salted caramel flavored ice cream that she had bought on impulse. The next week to pay her back Christen had matcha green tea flavored ice cream for them to try. Tobin had coined it 99 Flavors night as they wanted to try the weirdest flavors of ice cream that they could find. 

 

“Good job, Press,” Tobin says as she picks up the ice cream. 

 

“You think we can wash it?” Christen asks. 

 

Tobin bursts out laughing. “No! Do you have ice cream in your fridge?”

 

“But that’s for next week!”

 

“You just threw this week’s flavor to the ground!” Tobin says as she grabs Christen’s hands and tugs her out of her couch. “C’mon let’s go get the ice cream from your fridge.”

 

After arguing back and forth as to who’s fault it was, they settled on Christen’s couch, the cheese flavored ice cream carton in Christen’s arms this time. Tobin had to lean over multiple times, her arms brushing against Christen’s every single time. Christen swears there was a small tingle that runs up against her spine every single time. 

 

“So was it a good date?” Tobin asks as she puts the carton away in Christen’s fridge. 

 

Christen was laying down on the couch, her legs pulled up to her chest, her right arm dangling over the couch,  half-awake and half-drifting. 

 

Tobin walks over to her and nudges her arm with her knee. “Press?” She nudges her again when she gets no reaction. “Hey, Press!”

 

Christen groans and turns over, burying her face in the many throw pillows on the couch while Tobin barely has something that barely constitutes as a couch. Tobin swears that her couch is all throw pillow. She usually has to move at least three or four on the floor just so she can sit on the couch.

A small smile lifts the corners of Tobin's lips at Christen's appearance. She goes to her hallway closet and grabs two blankets. She drapes one of them over Christen's form, lightly tucking it around her body. She takes one of the throw pillows on the floor and shoves it underneath her head, using the shag rug as a body pillow.

-

-

-

Christen knocks against the glass, gaining Julie’s attention. Julie waves at her, mouthing that the door was open. Christen pushes the door open, immediately taken aback at how put together Julie’s coffee shop looks.

 

Right when you enter the shop, you are greeted with the counter with the cash register and the glass that will be soon filled with pastries. Right across from it was a long bar against the main wall of window, single stools placed underneath it. Although where you order was small, there was a small hallway leading to the main eating area. The once barren place was filled with tables, booths, and armchairs of varying sizes.  In one corner of the shop was a wall filled with books, a ladder resting against it for ease of access. In another was a collection of comfortable armchairs.

 

It had that hipster vibe that people want to simultaneously make fun of but at the same time hang around in it. 

 

She sees a booth that’s right at the corner of the wall. It looked inviting and Christen immediately knew that was going to be her booth. 

 

“You should put a reserved sign on that booth for me,” Christen says, jokingly tapping on the wood as she continues to look around the room. “Jules, this place looks amazing.”

 

“I know right?” Julie says. Christen can practically see the excitement running through her veins as she gives Christen a small tour. They end back up at the front of the shop, right underneath the sign. “We’ll have a soft opening on Tuesday and the grand opening a couple of weeks after that.”

 

“Well sign me up to both,” Christen says. “I’m so happy you finally got your coffee shop.”

 

Julie sighs, her eyes roaming around her shop as if she couldn’t believe her lifelong dream had actually happened. “Thanks for helping me out, Chris. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

Christen shrugs. Really all the help she’s given was just trying to talk Julie down or giving her input when she was asking for it. “I’m sure you could’ve.”

 

“Wait lemme me make you something,” Julie says as she goes behind the counter and starts fussing with the machines. 

 

Christen follows and leans against the counter, watching her friend. Already Julie looked at home behind the counter, expertly using the different machines and coffee makers. She thinks of her own job and her own dreams and how everything derailed when her sister died. She shakes her head trying to get rid of the bad thoughts.

 

“That bad, huh?” Julie teases as she places a cup in front of Christen. 

 

Christen’s eyes snap up to meet Julie’s amused ones. “What?”

 

“I asked you about Chad,” Julie says, the amusement still present in her eyes. 

 

Christen rolls her eyes. “He was something else that’s for sure.” Her eyes narrow at Julie. She kept insisting that it was just a fun group date, but that question just confirmed her suspicions. “You were trying to set me up!”

 

Julie holds her hands up in guilty as she sighs. “Fine. Guilty, but-” Julie’s head tilts in confusion and she implores, “You looked liked you were having fun.”

 

Christen shrugs, fingers tapping out a rhythm against the porcelain mug. “I mean a night out with my best friend was fun it had nothing to do with him.” She lets out a laugh that had Julie raising her eyebrow, asking what’s up. “So, he’s actually my neighbor.”

 

“Wait I thought neighbor was a her and her name was Tobin?” 

 

“No this is our other neighbor,” Christen says and she explains how Chad was an extremely irksome neighbor. 

 

Julie was laughing by the end of it, but not because of what Christen was describing. “Chris...he has lupus.”

 

Christen’s blood ran cold as she processes Julie’s words. Already she can feel the guilt in her veins. “What?”

 

“Yeah, he uses the handicap parking because he has lupus and sometimes his joints ache so he has to use it,” Julie explains, watching Christen’s face carefully. Her ears have tinged pink as well as her cheeks, a sure sign that she was embarrassed, but it was the guilt in her eyes that had her smirking. 

 

“Damn it,” Christen mutters, burying her face in her hands, shamefaced. 

 

Julie pats her on the back, laughing at her. “Yeah. You know what they say when you assume.”

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m an ass,” she says, face still buried but her hand was waving at Julie. 

 

“So how’s Tobin then? I feel like you haven’t complained about her in awhile,” Julie says, leaning over the counter, her hand placed underneath her chin as she waits for Christen to respond. 

 

“Tobin and I are-” Christen stops short, unsure whether or not she can tell Julie about the date. Knowing Julie, she would hound her for details and Christen feels like keeping it to herself for a little bit. “Tobin and I are actually fine. We’ve become friends, Jules.”

 

Julie smiles as she claps a bit. “Aw, Chris, making friends with adult humans and not just dogs.” She pretends to wipe a tear at the corner of her eye. “I’m such a proud mama.”

 

Christen rolls her eyes at her friend. “Whatever, Jules.” She picks up her mug and takes a sip of her drink. 

 

They hear a tap on the glass and they look over to see a young woman, pushing her glasses up her face as she waves at them. 

 

“Oh that’s Levy!” Julie says. “She’s one of my new baristas.” She unlocks the door and let the young woman in. “Levy this is Christen. She’s one of my best friends that made this coffee shop possible! Remember this face! She’s VIP!”

 

Christen laughs as she takes Levy’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Levy.”

 

“You too, Christen,” she says, her friendly disposition immediately showing, reminding her of Julie despite the pixie cut and blue hair. 

 

Christen chugs the rest of her drink, not caring that it hurt her tongue a bit. She leaves Julie to training her new employee and decides to take the scenic route home, hoping the walk home would help her nerves and mind settle from the upcoming date that she has with Tobin. 

 

As she walks through the park, she stops to pet every dog, making sure she hits their good spots. 

 

She was petting a particularly rambunctious cat (that acts more like a dog). They were chatting about the cat, Lucy, the owner, was telling her that he was her boyfriend’s and she wasn’t sure where his interesting markings on his shoulders come from when she yells mid-sentence, “Watch out!” 

 

Christen was thoroughly confused until she looks up just in time to see a solid body tackle her right into the ground, her breath leaving her in one swoop. She hears Happy the cat elicits a sharp meow as he runs. Christen gasps as she tries to stand up, ready to tear the one who bumped into her a new one. When she sees the familiar brown eyes, her words die at her lips, opting instead to deck her at her chest. 

 

“What the hell, Heath?” 

 

“What happened?” Tobin looks dazed and confused as she looks up at Christen, her eyes squinting, her mouth in a hard line. She sits up, groaning.

 

“Did you hit your head?” Christen asks, concerned as she helps her sit up, fussing over her. 

 

Tobin continues to squint at her. Christen can see that her mind was still muddled. “Who are you?”

 

Christen’s heart drops to her stomach as she gapes at Tobin. “Heath?”

 

“Yeah that’s me,” Tobin says. She was still looking at Christen with a curiosity in her eyes that was never present in the earlier meetings. It was scaring Christen. Tobin smiles at her, the crinkles around the corner of her eyes appearing. The sight of it had Christen’s heart stuttering, until she says the next words, “What’s your name, pretty lady?”

 

“W-w-what?” Christen stutters as she scans Tobin’s face, trying to see if she was joking in any way. “Tobin?” She whispers. 

 

As if Tobin couldn’t hold it in anymore and she starts laughing, holding her stomach. “Oh my god your face, Press!” She looks at the utterly confused expression Christen’s face before dissolving into another giggle. 

 

“You are such an ass, Heath!” Christen says, heatedly, glaring at Tobin. “If that fall didn’t give you a concussion, my fist will!” 

 

“Hey! I just got injured!” 

 

“So did! You tackled me!” Christen says as she stands up. She helps Tobin up as well and turns to the cat’s owner, who was just watching them, amusement in her eyes. She gives her the most apologetic smile she can muster. “I’m sorry she almost killed Happy.”

 

She waves of their worries with a flick of her hand. “Happy loves parkouring.” Her eyes gives them a quick once-over as if checking for injuries. “You guys okay though?”

 

Christen nods. “Yeah, we’re fine.” 

 

“Alright, well let me find Happy. My boyfriend will not be happy with me if I don’t come back with him,” she says, giving them a wave as she leaves. 

 

“Bye!” Christen says as she waves at them. She turns to back to Tobin, an eyebrow raised at her current position

 

Tobin was halfway in and out of the bush, right arm extended into it, balancing on one foot.  Tobin looks over her shoulder, her tongue sticking at the corner of her mouth. 

 

Christen stands next to her to see what she was trying to reach. She laughs when she sees Tobin’s longboard had rolled underneath the bus and between the bush and tree. 

 

Tobin feels Christen’s warm hand at her back, making her inhale sharply and topple into the bushes more. She snaps back up, glaring at Christen. “You pushed me in!”

 

Christen’s hands were up in the air as she steps back. “I touched you! I didn’t push you in!”

 

Tobin’s eyes narrow at her before she tries to grab her longboard again. She manages to nudge it towards them.  This time she felt a heavy hand on her back, actually pushing her in. She looks at Christen sharply. 

 

Christen shrugs. “You already accused me.”

 

Tobin rolls her eyes and tries again. She hears Christen moving around her and she braces herself until she sees Christen’s shoes enter her line of vision. She watches as Christen slides the longboard closer to her and picks it up.

 

“You just gotta show off, huh, Press?” Tobin puts her other foot down as she pulls back. She mumbles a thanks as Christen gives her her board. 

 

“It was easier to walk behind the tree than reach in front of the bush.” Christen rolls her eyes as they start walking in the direction of the gates. “Bye Lucy! Bye Happy!” She waves at the young girl who was nice enough to let her pet the cat as much as she desired. 

 

“Who names their cat Happy?”

 

“Who names their kid Tobin?” Christen snarks back. 

 

“Damn, dude, harsh,” Tobin says. 

 

“You’re right.” Christen puts her hand over the heart and looks up. “I’m sorry Mrs. Heath. I’m sorry that you had to waste such a unique name on her.”

 

“That’s it!” Tobin says, grabbing Christen by the waist and tickling her. “Say I’m awesome! Say I’m awesome!”

 

Tobin had such a good grip on her that she do much but try to push her hands away, giggling. 

 

“Alright fine, fine,” Christen says as she catches her breath. Tobin stops and Christen takes a step forward to her door. She leans over and she hears Tobin draw a breath in. She places a kiss on her cheek and pulls back, giggling at how she seemed to have taken Tobin by surprise. 

 

Tobin’s eyes were wide and she was frozen, unmoving in her spot. Tobin seems to have floated away from her body and was now roaming around, but the rising blush on her cheeks and the tips of her ears show that she was still in there, hiding, and confused. 

 

Christen quickly goes inside her house and closes the door before Tobin can realize that Christen has expertly played her like a fiddle. 

 

Christen hears three sharp blows to her door and Tobin screams, “You’re such a cheater, Press!”

 

Christen just laughs loudly as she goes upstairs to her bedroom. 

-

-

-

When she parks her car, her eyes immediately drift to the parking spot a couple of spaces away from her. Her heart drops at the empty space. She goes to Mrs. Resnick, thanking her for watching Fred first. 

 

She goes right, leading Fred towards the gated park instead of towards their house. She closes the gate behind them and unclips Fred’s leash from her harness. She lets Fred run amok, knowing that she will never go beyond the fenced area while she heads straight to the swings at the playground. 

 

She plops herself on it, the events of the day making her lean on it heavily. She mulls over the first date (if you can call it that) that she had with Tobin. 

 

To Christen first dates are always exciting, new person, new possibilities and the free food doesn’t hurt either. She’s been to a fair amount of first dates. She’s been lucky so far that most of them had been great, fun, and alluring. Until now.

 

To say she was surprised at how horrible her date with Tobin went was an understatement. She was baffled, reeling, and so confused as to what could’ve gone wrong. 

 

It was awkward and stifling. She didn’t know whether it was the restaurant or it was them (and she hopes so much that it’s not them). 

 

Tobin had picked a very fancy one that required to be dressed up, a fact that Tobin didn’t elaborate on and she showed up severely underdressed, haggard from work as she didn’t have the time to go home and change or they were going to be late for her reservation. And she was  _ hungry _ , having to skip lunch earlier in the day and was just munching on a granola on her drive there. Christen didn’t expect the food to be served molecular gastronomy style and from the looks Tobin was giving the “PB&J”, she didn’t either. 

 

As the food they’ve ordered keeps getting smaller and harder, the looks they trade keep getting increasingly bizarre. Until they were served dessert in a form a small hard candy that the menu had described as a strawberry ice cream. 

 

Christen pops the candy in her mouth as their server was talking about the proper way of eating it. She wasn’t paying attention to his babbling and bit into the hard candy right as he was talking about savoring the flavor, earning a disapproving look from him. She looks across to Tobin, who was stifling a laugh. They paid the cheque quickly after that, not wanting to linger any longer.

 

After that weird, but interesting dinner, they were taking a walk down the pier when Tobin gets a phone call that she actually answered while shooting apologetic looks at Christen, saying she couldn’t  _ not _ answer it. Christen walks next to her, stomach growling, and feeling a little bit put off that her date actually took a phone call. 

 

She pushes her legs against the ground, giving her some motion to swing.

 

Usually, at this point, Christen would’ve ended the date early, citing having work the next day, but it was Tobin. So she didn’t. 

 

After the phone call, Tobin’s demeanor visibly changes. She was stuck in her head that much Christen can see. The conversation became stilted and one-sided and there were many  _ can you repeat that _ s from Tobin. 

 

Just when Christen was about to ask what was wrong, Tobin had turned to her abruptly, making Christen stagger.

 

“I’m so sorry, Press,” Tobin apologized as she leans over and leaves a kiss on her forehead before she turns and runs to the other direction of her car, leaving Christen baffled as to what the hell was going on. 

 

Christen turns in the same direction that Tobin had gone moments prior, ready to hunt her down and yell at her, but instead she goes to her car and drives back to their complex, worried and confused. 

 

She pumps her leg every time she was almost at the ground, making herself go higher. Her fingers grip the metal chain, forming indents as the wind whips around her face. 

 

_ Higher _

 

Makes sense to her that her first foray into the whole dating thing would be a bust. 

 

_ Higher _

 

Or that she could’ve potentially lost a friendship over that fail. 

 

_ Higher _

 

At least she hopes it hasn’t damaged their friendship. 

 

_ High- _

 

“Hey.”

 

The greeting startles Christen since as far as she knows there was no one else there. Her head whips to Tobin just as she gets to that apex, her appearance surprises her so much that her grip loosens and she slides backwards, hitting the rubber mulch hard. She stays limp on the ground, groaning, much more than she needed really. 

 

“Christen!” She hears Tobin’s footsteps rush towards her and sees her sneakers in front of her, much different from the shoes that she was wearing earlier. She feels Tobin’s hand on her back as she slowly helps her up. “Are you okay?”

 

Christen sits on the ground, her breath coming out in short bursts as she tries to catch it. She jerks away from Tobin, her eyes squinting as she looks at her. “Who are you again?”

 

Tobin’s face falls at her question as she inspects every line and crevice on Christen’s face to see if she was joking. 

 

Christen keeps staring blankly at her until she couldn’t keep the facade any longer and she laughs. “Oh my god your face!” Christen visibly sees the relief on Tobin’s body as her shoulders slump and her eyes became clear again. “Not so funny now is it?” 

 

Tobin rolls her eyes in response. “You really okay though? No trauma?”

 

Christen wanted to say,  _ Other than that date you took me on?  _ But instead, she says, “I’m fine,” as she stands back up and gets back on the swing, much to Tobin’s horror. Christen plays it nonchalant, trying to put Tobin at ease. “What’s up?” She nods at the swing next to her, inviting Tobin to sit. 

 

Tobin acquiesces and pushes her feet against the ground, the swing taking off. They swing in silence for awhile, letting the wind and whispers of the night fill their ears, putting off the conversation they know they had to have for a little while longer. 

 

If it was any other first date, Christen would’ve left every nuanced thought at the end of the night, chalking it up to just being incompatible. A first date with a friend is a bit different.

 

When Christen got tired of pumping, she lets gravity do its work and slow her down until she was barely swinging at all. 

 

Tobin seeing what she was doing does the same until both of them were just sitting on the swings.

 

“Did you see his face when you bit into the hard candy?” Tobin laughs. “It was that _why_ _do I even bother_ face you do.”

 

Christen’s brows crinkle. “I don’t make a face like that. 

 

“Oh you so do, Press,” Tobin says, recounting the times that Christen has thrown her that look. “You gave me that look yesterday!” 

 

“I did not!” 

 

“Did too!”

 

“Did not!”

 

Tobin opens her mouth, the tip of her comeback at the tip of her tongue, but refrains from saying it loud. “Anyway, I know our date wasn’t great.”

 

Christen lets out a laugh that had Tobin cringing at how hollow and unhappy it sounds. “Dude, I think that might’ve been one of the worst dates I went on.”

 

“Well don’t hold back punches,” Tobin mutters, unhappily as she stares down at the rubber mulch, her cheeks tinged red. She couldn’t believe how much of a shit show the date was. 

 

Christen reaches over and places a hand over Tobin’s arm to get her attention. “Hey,” she waits until Tobin looks up at her before continuing. “It’s okay, Heath. Now we know that being romantically involved might not be for us.”

 

Tobin lets her words sink in. She felt relieved and a little disappointed that Christen is so quick to write them off, but she was so mortified at how badly it went, she doesn’t want to put their friendship to that again. 

 

Tobin holds out her hand. “So friends?”

 

Christen smiles brightly, shaking her hand. “Friends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh yeah. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for those that kudos-ed, commented, and read the story.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: 12percentofmoments


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